


We Are All Drawn To What's Broken & Beautiful

by VOlympianlove



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Sleeping Beauty Fusion, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 16:50:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15755835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VOlympianlove/pseuds/VOlympianlove
Summary: From the moment he was born, he had been cursed. His kingdom fell into desolation, his parents dead and gone. Magnus Bane has had a hard life, waiting for the prince who could break his curse. But curses never liked to be broken, and this one even more so. The road to true happiness never did run smooth.





	1. The Middle Of Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> Literally an idea that just popped into my head and refused to leave. It's a sort of sleeping beauty, beauty and the beast combined kind of story. This is my first Malec fic, so please be kind!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I...I don’t understand. He said... he said he would return.” Magnus’ face was a mask of pain and confusion. Another wave of agony washed over him and his knees gave out, collapsing onto the ground. His fingers were clutched so tightly around the Enchanted Mirror that his knuckles had turned white. He turned his face to face the enchantress, sorrow carved into his face.

 

“I...I don’t understand. He said... he said he would return.” Magnus’ face was a mask of pain and confusion. Another wave of agony washed over him and his knees gave out, collapsing onto the ground. His fingers were clutched so tightly around the Enchanted Mirror that his knuckles had turned white. He turned his face to face the enchantress, sorrow carved into his features.

 

Camille laughed, cruelly crushing the splinters of Magnus’ heart.

 

“And you believed him? Princes are all so fickle, aren’t they? One moment, they will tell you that you are their world, their everything and the next, oh no, they’ve already moved on.” She teased, painted lips curling as she watched the cursed man struggle to rise.

 

Magnus held the mirror to his chest, his legs trembling as he forced himself onto them, one hand pressed against the silver bench to support his weight.

 

“No,” he breathed, even as pain crashed through him, his vision blurring, “Alexander will return. He will come back. He promised he would.”

 

Camille smiled indulgently, tilting Magnus’ chin up to face her. She cocked her head, her eyes searching the garden.

 

“Then where is he?”

 

She singsonged and Magnus leaned out of her touch, clutching the mirror to his chest.

 

“He will come.” He gasped, persistently ignoring the throbbing in his temples. Camille’s cruel smile danced in his vision and he squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of pain struck him.

 

“He lied, Magnus. That’s what royalty does. His sister is far more important to him than you are. Why would he return for a man who is cursed to die?” Her voice was soft but every word stabbed him like a knife through his very core. Magnus shifted and inhaled sharply, the sickly sweet scent of roses filling his nostrils.

 

“Sleep.” The enchantress waved her hand and Magnus’ eyes rolled back in his head, darkness swallowing him whole.

 

* * *

 

 

“Magnus! Magnus!” Something was wrong. The air was too still, the castle too dark. No lights burned in the windows, no lamps lit in the courtyard. The iron gates were flung open, the clasps shattered and broken.

 

“No.” Catarina breathed, her hands flying to her mouth.

 

“We’re too late.” Ragnor murmured, voice heavy with despair. He stalked forward, swinging his cane violently, black eyes searching the gardens.

 

The roses still bloomed from their bushes, red as blood. Their fragrance filled the air as they walked past them.

 

“The Lightwood boy didn’t come for him,” Catarina said sadly as they surveyed the silver bench that sat sadly in the gardens. All around them, the ground was scattered with rose petals, red and white.

 

She bent and picked up the carved mirror that Camille had likely torn from Magnus’ grasp and turned it over.

 

Ragnor peeked over her shoulder as she spoke aloud, “show me Magnus Bane.”

 

The mirror shimmered and an image of a young man, lying in a bed with a red rose clutched in his hand, rippled into existence.

 

“He is for Camille now,” Catarina mumbled sorrowfully, stroking the image with a finger. Ragnor’s lips tightened and he was about to speak when they heard the calls.

 

“Magnus! I’m here! Where are you?” They were faint and distant as if the caller was inside the castle. Turning his head, Ragnor saw the black horse pawing restlessly in the courtyard, reins dropped in front of its nose.

 

“The Lightwood boy.” He growled, spinning around. The great doors of the palace swung open just as he approached them, a young man running out towards him.

 

His hazel eyes looked lost and confused, his hair matted with rain. He swept a hand through his drenched locks before his eyes lit upon Ragnor and a smile touched them.

 

“Ragnor! Where’s Magnus?” He gasped, stumbling over to him. Ragnor stared, Catarina coming to stand beside him.

 

“You’re too late. He is Camille’s now.” The changes in the boy’s expression were drastic, despair and agony flirting across his face in quick succession. He squeezed his hands into fists, drawing Catarina’s eyes to the mirror in his hands.

 

“That can’t be. I...I promised. I promised I would set him free!” He nearly shouted, knuckles so white that she was afraid he would hurt himself. She reached out a hand to soothe him, fingers curling around his wrist gently.

 

“She took him to her castle, across the Wastelands.” Ragnor watched the boy’s expression carefully, a tiny trickle of hope lighting up his features.

 

“Do you know the way?” The Lightwood boy looked determined, hope sliding like a mask over his face. He looked at them pleadingly, holding onto his magic mirror like a lifeline.

 

Ragnor shook his head, with mouth set into a grim line.

 

“If you wish to go, I can only show you to an old woman who may know the way. The journey will be long, and arduous. And you may still lose him.” He warned, though somewhere in his heart, he knew no one could dissuade him.

 

“Alec, it will be dangerous,” Catarina said quietly, seeing the determined look on the prince’s face.

 

Alec Lightwood shook his head. He held out his mirror.

 

“Show me.”


	2. The Pseudo Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus' life before it truly began.

Before we go on with Alec’s journey, every story should always start from the beginning, so as our beloved prince sleeps, I will tell you his tale.

 

As with every good story, it begins with once upon a time.

 

Once upon a time, there was a prince. From the moment he was born, his parents knew him to be cursed. A great storm besieged the castle at the hour of his birth and when he cried his sound into the night, all the fires in the hearth went out. The servants cowered and hid in their rooms as the queen took the child upon her chest to feed him. 

 

His eyes glowed like coals, golden in the candlelight, his pupils slit like a cat’s. 

 

The queen was afraid, but he was her son. So she laid him upon her breast and fed him, and when they called his father, the king into the room, he named him. 

 

He scared the servants, with his golden eyes. Wherever he went, destruction was soon to follow. He did not have many friends, the other children too afraid to come close. Despite that, despite his strange eyes, his parents loved him. They raised him as well as they could, until the day they died. 

 

They died together, in a dreadful accident on their way home from a ball. There was an attack, a case of mistaken identity, and all of a sudden, the prince found himself all alone in the world.

 

The kingdom was struck by an epidemic shortly after their deaths, killing most of the townsfolk and the ones who survived fled. A storm ravaged the fields, stripping all value from the lands. Servants packed their bags and left, leaving behind a very young, very lonely prince.

 

Though they called him devil touched, the people dared not touch him. They would have burned him, were they not so afraid of being killed first. So they left, binding the gates of the castle with iron chains when the last servant was gone.

 

A forest sprung up around the castle when the commonfolk left, thick and dense, seemingly out of nowhere. Heavy fog descended upon the land, making it even harder for travellers to find the castle.

 

The prince remained in that castle, learning to survive on his own. He learnt to cook and clean, and to wash his clothes, for he had no desire to step out into the world. For cursed as he was, the prince had a good heart. He did not wish to unleash his curse upon the world and remained locked up away, by choice, in his hidden castle, away from the rest of civilization.

 

His story became legend, a fairytale told to small children, and because his castle was never found, no one knew the truth.

 

Until the night of his eighteenth birthday, the prince lived alone. He chose a new name, a new self, for his old one bore the memories of his parents and his old life.

 

Magnus Bane was used to living alone. He had no choice unless he wished to bring devastation to the world outside. He no longer kept count of his birthdays, wishing the days to pass as quickly as possible. He dug through the books in his parents’ library, every minute of every day devoted to finding a way to break his godforsaken curse.

 

But the answer came to him on its own, in the form of an enchantress, Camille Belcourt. She was beautiful and cunning, and Magnus fell, hard and fast. She was the light of his life and he was the happiest he had ever been.

 

They laid together and the prince thought he had found the one thing that he had craved ever since his parents’ death. He thought they had forever together, until she shattered him, breaking his fragile heart into a million pieces.

 

She whispered the answer to his curse into his ear when she left him, painted lips curved into a cruel smile.

 

If he could love anyone after her and be loved in return, the spell would be broken. If he could not, he would belong to her, body, heart and soul.

 

It was a purposeful act. She had broken him, broken him in such a terrible form that she was sure he would never love again. And he did not.

 

Magnus shut himself off completely, and It looked as if he would die of a broken heart if it were not for an accidental encounter. Ragnor Fell and Catarina Loss had only been trying to find their way to the nearest town.

 

But the fog was thick and dense, and there was magic in the air. As if the universe was trying to give the prince a little kindness, they stumbled upon the castle and stayed for good.

 

And that is where the story truly begins.

 


	3. The Actual Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She stole. She stole from me, when we graciously offered her food and shelter.” He said, his tone icy.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Ragnor said sharply, glaring at the prince when he reappeared in the great hall. His golden eyes were blazing and he pushed past Ragnor huffily, pulling his jacket closer.

The night was chilly, a cold wind blowing through the open window. Magnus tugged his jacket close, glaring out at the stars.

“She stole. She stole from me when we graciously offered her food and shelter.” He said, his tone icy.

His shoulders were stiff when Ragnor moved to stand beside him, jaw tight. He laid a hand on the prince’s shoulder gently.

“I know you’re thinking of her. But the princess has done no wrong…”

It was the wrong thing to say.

Magnus spun around, golden eyes ablaze. He lunged away from Ragnor, teeth bared in fury.

“Nothing wrong? She was a thief!” He bristled when his friend tried to soothe him, striding off furiously.

Ragnor stared after him, his face a mask of despair. A hand on his arm made him turn, Catarina melting out of the shadows with a grim look on her face.

“He will bring the Lightwoods down upon us all.”

-

The cell was cold and dark, the light coming from a single square of moonlight streaming in from the window. Isabelle pulled her red cloak tighter around her, trying to calm her racing heart.

The man had appeared out of nowhere, storming over to pull her from her horse when she had tried to leave with the roses.

He had golden eyes, like that of a cat and his grip was painfully tight.

“Is this how you treat your hospitable hosts?” He roared and the princess shield back, her hand flying to the dagger at her hip.

But the man was quick, catching her wrists and twisting her arms behind her back. He was so close that she could feel his breath, hot on her neck.

“You will pay.”

Isabelle screamed as he dragged her back into the castle, fingers digging into her arms. The walls closed in around her, dark and looming. Lamps flickered and snuffed out as they passed, plunging the hallway into darkness.

They arrived at the top of the tower, where the air was so cold that she could see gusts of white puffing from his lips. His golden cat eyes gleamed as he yanked open an iron door and shoved her inside.

“Wait, wait please!” She gasped, finally finding her breath. The man turned and she could see his face in the faint flickering of the only remaining candle.

He would be breathtakingly beautiful if it were not for the strangeness of his eyes. Half his face was shrouded in shadow and Isabelle took a shaky breath.

“The flowers, I’ll pay you for them. Please, let me go. They were for my girlfriend.” She pleaded, white misting the air. It did not seem possible but the man’s eyes darkened and he spun on his heel, ignoring her pleas.

-

“Well?” Ragnor said, his eyes pleading. He liked himself in one piece thank you very much. Everyone knew of the Lightwood family and their ever-rising power. The royal family was gaining more and more territory and allies and their children were beloved by the citizens.

Catarina shook her head tiredly. She patted his shoulder, stepping around him.

“He’s bolted the door to the tower and locked himself in his room. We best leave him be. Perhaps we can talk sense into him by morning.”

Ragnor muttered curses under his breath. He had gone out to the courtyard in the hopes that he could perhaps bring the horse Isabelle Lightwood had ridden in but the creature had already fled, probably scared by Magnus’ eyes.

There was blood on the ground, the girl’s blood, from where she had pricked her fingers on the rose thorns.

Ragnor scuffed his boots over it, throwing dirt over the stain on the grass. He had no doubt that they would send someone after her but perhaps the magic that had hidden the castle for so long would work to their advantage. For as long as they needed to convince Magnus to release the girl anyway.

He doubted Magnus would keep her for long. The prince was always so temperamental.

-

“Milord, you must come quickly!” A hand clamped down hard on Alec’s arm, jolting him awake. He sat up in bed, eyes wide with shock. His servant thrust his coat onto him, pulling him out of bed frantically.

Alec let himself be pulled out of his bedroom, wide-eyed. His hair was mussed with sleep and he was sure he looked like an absolute mess when the great oak doors were yanked open.

Three guards were gathered around a froth covered Valiant. The black stallion was foaming at the mouth, the whites of his eyes rolling. He reared, neighing loudly at the guards that were trying to calm him.

“Valiant!”

Alec shoved one of them back, narrowly missing Valiant’s hooves. The horse twisted his neck and bucked when the other guard got too close, baring his teeth.

“Whoa there, whoa.” Alec held up his hands, palms flat out, putting himself directly in the stallion’s eye line. Valiant was wild with anyone that was not him or Isabelle. Even Jace could not get close to him.

The stallion was panting, eyes rolling even when he landed back on the ground. He allowed the prince to take his bridle before stamping his feet and pawing at the ground roughly.

“Easy boy, easy,” Alec patted him gently, his eyes scanning for injuries.

“Where’s Izzy?” He asked the guards, who were cowering back, away from the horse. They shook their heads.

“He came alone, Milord. All wild and spooked.” One of them said, stepping back when Valiant glared at him with one eye.

Alec’s face paled just as the doors were flung open a second time.

“Alec! What’s going on?” Maryse Lightwood was standing in the doorway, still dressed in her sleeping robes. Her hair was loose across her shoulders, swirling in the night wind.

“Izzy. I have to go after Izzy.” Alec replied, putting a toe into the saddle. He swung up just as his mother came down the steps, wide eyed.

She grasped Alec’s saddle, her words a whisper, “where is she?”

Alec shook his head.

“I don’t know Mother. But I’ll bring her home. Promise.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to his mother’s cheek as Valiant sidestepped away.

His servant barely had time to thrust a cloak into his arms before the stallion was spinning around, mouthing at the bit.

“Whoa there!” Alec fastened the cloak as quickly as he could, snatching up the reins. They were knotted neatly, as if Isabelle had left them that way.

He dug his heels into Valiant’s sides, the horse leaping forward into motion.

“Be careful, Alec!” Maryse stared after him, a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 

 


	4. A Castle In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There was a man. A man with eyes like a… like a cat…” Her voice trailed off when she saw the shadow moving in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to update day by day but we’ll see how long that works. I’ve never been the most consistent writer so I hope you guys will understand.

The road was long and dark, the forest shrouded by mist. Alec crouched low over Valiant’s shoulder, inhaling sharply when he saw the fog part for a moment, revealing tall iron gates surrounding a massive castle made of stone.

His heart was beating fast in his chest as Valiant walked straight up to them and the gates parted for him.

There were no lamps lit in the windows and Alec shivered as a cold wind blew across the courtyard, rain beginning to trickle down from the skies. He swung off his horse, pulling his cloak closer as the heavens opened up, sheets of rain pouring down.

He found a little stable and bedded down Valiant, kissing his velvety nose gently.

“Wait here, I’ll be back soon.” He murmured softly as the horse moved away to nose at some hay in the nearby trough.

Slipping out into the rain, he ran as fast as he could, his heart nearly falling out of his mouth when his foot skidded on the wet steps.

Other than the creak of the door opening that had him wincing, the castle was as silent as a graveyard. There was not so much a crackle of a fireplace.

The great hall was dark and cold, the lamps unlit. It was so dark that Alec could not see more than two feet before him.

Pulling his cloak tighter around his body, he called out.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

There was no answer. The prince steeled his nerves and stepped into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him with a thud of finality.

He stood in the great hall, dripping water onto the fine carpet as he looked around him.

“Hello? Izzy?” He called again. There was a soft rustle, coming from the side and the prince froze, his hand going to his hip.

Alec cursed softly. He had left in such a hurry that he had forgotten his sword.

Biting his lip, he crouched down, sliding his hand into his boot to grip the knife he kept there. When he rose, he took a step towards the sound.

“Hello?”

A flare of light burst to life, flickering softly as thunder rumbled outside. Alec strode towards it, blindly putting aside his fear out of concern for his sister.

The lamps seemed to light themselves, leading him down a dark empty hallway and up a stairwell that seemed to go on forever, spiralling up and up and up.

Just as he thought he could go on no longer, breath panting out in white mist, the last candle flared to life and Alec saw a flash of red.

Izzy’s cloak.

He gave a cry of surprise and relief, leaping into the light when he saw the pale frightened face of his sister staring back at him from behind iron bars.

“Izzy!”

The metal was cold against his skin, the filigree cutting into his hands as he gripped it, pressing as close as he could.

“Alec!” The relief in the princess’s voice was quickly overtaken by fear.

“What are you doing here? You cannot stay! He will find you!” She cried, despair showing all over her face. Alec curled his fingers gently, brushing them against his sister’s cheek.

“Who? Who has done this?” His expression was fierce with protectiveness and Isabelle felt her heart clench. She gripped the iron bars tighter, her breathing shaky.

“There was a man. A man with eyes like a… like a cat…” Her voice trailed off when she saw the shadow moving in the darkness.

“Izzy?” Alec tensed when he saw his sister look past him, at the patch of darkness that fell behind him. The candles flickered once, a boom of thunder rolling over their heads and then the room was plunged into semi-darkness as most of their flames died.

He turned slowly, fingers clutching his dagger like a lifeline. Through the weak light of the single remaining candle, he could barely make out the slender shape of a man, shorter than himself. Cat eyes gleamed golden and when he spoke again, his voice was strong.

“Who are you? Come into the light.”

Izzy had begun to tremble beside him, her breath coming out in short pants as the man gave a low mocking chuckle, stepping out of the darkness and into the light of the single candle.

Alec’s heart nearly stopped, his breath catching in his throat.

* * *

 

The boy was stunning, even with his dark hair matted with rain.

Magnus cocked his head as he surveyed him, with his hand on his blade. He tilted his chin in the direction of the girl unfortunate enough to see his wrath and said, “you’re her brother?”

It amused him when the boy appeared to shake himself as if waking up from a trance before he spoke, barely concealed fury shimmering beneath his features.

“Yes. I’ve come to demand that you let her go.”

Magnus’ eyes darkened and he took a threatening step forward.

The boy retreated, his sister’s fingers curling around his wrist through the bars.

“You are in no position to make demands.” The prince said coldly, folding his arms across his chest. He stared at them both, silence hanging heavily between them.

A burst of thunder startled them all and the boy was about to speak again when Magnus held up a hand.

Magnus cocked his head, his eyes raking down the prince’s form as he fell silent.

“Alexander, is it?” He mused softly, dangerously. The name rolled off his tongue pleasantly. He watched as the boy shivered and smirked to himself. “Do you know what we do to thieves, my dear Alexander?”

“It’s Alec.” The boy gritted out, his body tense. His shirt clung to his body and Magnus could see the flat planes of his stomach through the white material. He smiled wickedly and said.

“We cut off their hands.”

The princess gasped and Alexander’s lips went thin as he pressed them together tightly.

“She took something that was precious to me and therefore must pay the price… unless…” Magnus stopped, allowing the tension to grow thicker. He eyed the boy again, dropping his hand.

“Unless you take her place.”

 


	5. The End of a Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was breathtaking. Alec knew he was staring, but he could not bring himself to be ashamed. His eyes raked up and down the man’s form, taking in the burgundy shirt unbuttoned so far down that he could see the firm chest underneath.

He was breathtaking. Alec knew he was staring, but he could not bring himself to be ashamed. His eyes raked up and down the man’s form, taking in the burgundy shirt unbuttoned so far down that he could see the firm chest underneath.

 His cheeks flushed slightly when he brought his eyes back up to meet golden ones, staring just as unabashedly at him.

The man tilted his chin and spoke, his voice honeyed and smooth.

“You’re her brother?”

Alec shook himself. This was a stranger and he would not let his guard down around him. No matter how beautiful he was, he had still taken his sister captive.

He gripped the blade in his hand tighter, his voice betraying his anger as he replied tensely, “yes, I’ve come to demand that you let her go.”

The man’s eyes darkened and he took a step forward, everything about his posture screaming danger.

Alec took a step back, even though he knew he could easily take him on. He was taller and possibly stronger than someone who probably sat at home all day. But he knew better than to underestimate his opponent.

“You are in no position to make demands.”

A hot wave of anger swept through the prince and he stiffened. Thunder roared suddenly and he jumped, hating the way his skin prickled when the man swept his heated gaze over him again.

He opened his mouth say something, anything but the man held up his hand, his eyes musing.

 “Alexander, is it?” A shiver ran down Alec’s spine. The way his name sounded on his tongue was almost sensual. No one ever called him Alexander unless his mother was particularly displeased with him. 

“Do you know what we do to thieves, my dear Alexander?” Alec barely suppressed a growl. A stranger using his full name was bad enough but this one had the audacity to call him dear?

“It’s Alec.” He gritted his teeth, Isabelle’s eyes flicking to him in concern. She looked fearful and that stirred up more of his protective big brother tendencies.

The man was smiling, a wicked smile that made Alec’s stomach sink.

“We cut off their hands.”

Isabelle gasped and he could feel her terror as she moved closer to him. Her grip around his wrist tightened and he folded his lips together tightly, refusing to give the man any satisfaction.

There was a beat before he spoke again, his voice lilting.

“She took something that was precious to me and therefore must pay the price… unless…” There was a pregnant pause and Alec’s body tensed.

“Unless you take her place.”

Isabelle cried out before he could react, her eyes turning to him. Without a second thought, Alec was nodding.

“I will. Take me if you want. But let Izzy go. Unharmed.” He said, ignoring his sister’s protests. 

“She will never return. You will stay. Forever.” The man intoned, his smile growing wider. Alec’s stomach dropped.

His family.

He would never see them again.

“Alec, no. I can’t let you do this. You are the crown prince!” Isabelle gripped his arm, shaking her head wildly. Her dark hair fell into her face and her lips were blue with cold. Alec looked at her hard, memorizing the planes of her face. He would never see his baby sister again.

“Take me. Let Izzy go.” He said again, looking pained. His heart ached at the thought of what he was leaving behind and he pulled his arm from her grasp.

Isabelle looked desolate, tears streaming down her face.

The man walked forward, a skeleton key in his hand. He swung open the iron gate, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

“Hey, hey, wait, wait!” Alec yelped when he seized his arm, spinning gracefully. He found himself being shoved behind the iron bars, and the door being slammed shut in his face.

“No, no, please! At least let us say goodbye.” Isabelle was crying now, her hands pulling uselessly at the grip the man had on her arm.

The man did not soften, pushing her away. She fought against him, her sobs growing ever louder. Alec forced down the tears, refusing to show any sign of weakness.

 “Izzy, just go. I’ll be alright.” He said, his eyes glaring coldly at the man. His sister wailed, her nails digging crescents into the man’s hand. 

He yelled in pain and she brought her knee up, shoving him back long enough for her to dash to the door, reaching out for her brother. 

“We will get you out, Alec. I swear it. I will kill him myself if I have to.” She said, her eyes dark with intent. The man seized her by the waist, his hands gentler now. He did not meet Alec’s eyes as he pulled her away. 

“Go. Before I change my mind.” He said lowly, turning in the direction of the stairwell. Isabelle hesitated for a moment and he growled, pushing her towards the stairs.

Alec saw what she was going to do before she did it.

Isabelle spun around, her dagger clutched in her hand. She pushed back, using enough momentum to send the man crashing back into the door.

Alec caught hold of him through the bars, his arms looping around his waist to keep him still as Isabelle pressed her forearm across his throat, dagger in her free hand.

The man choked, his hands flying up to grasp at her arm weakly.

 His eyes were wide with shock.

And resignation.

 

* * *

 

Magnus stared at the point of the dagger the girl held aloft. He gagged when she pressed her arm harder against his windpipe, tilting his head back as far as he could with the door at his back.

He supposed he deserved it, locking her and then her brother up.

“Let him go, or I _will_ kill you.” Isabelle Lightwood stared down at him, dark eyes blazing. With the red painted on her lips, she reminded him incredibly of Camille.

A pang struck him and he stopped struggling, fingers softening their grip.

“Not very honourable are you, Lightwoods.” He murmured softly and he could feel it when Alexander tensed, the arms around his waist locking.

He chuckled when he saw the look on the princess’s face.

“Your brother made a deal. He looked like an honourable man.” The arm across his throat pushed harder and he gasped involuntarily, his lips parting in an effort to draw in more air.

Prince Alexander released him, speaking over his head.

“Let go, Izzy. He’s right. We made a deal.”

The princess made a disbelieving noise, pressing her arm as hard as she could. Magnus gagged again, his fingers flexing feebly. 

“He forced you into a deal-”

“A deal is a deal, Izzy. Let him go.” His words were stern but Isabelle did not look like she would let up. Magnus sucked in a shallow breath, tugging weakly at her arm. 

He did not wish to live. But he did not wish to die either, especially not at the hands of a girl who reminded him so much of Camille.

“Magnus!” A shadowy form appeared at the top of the steps, looking rather worse for wear.

Ragnor was staring at him in surprise, his hair mussed as if he had been asleep.

Magnus made a gurgling sound and Isabelle turned to see what had caught his attention. Seizing his chance, he shoved her away roughly, catching her wrists before she could turn her dagger on him.

Isabelle cried out in pain when her arms were twisted behind her once more, Magnus pinning her wrists to the small of her back. Her dagger clattered to the ground, useless.

“Magnus! That is not how you treat a lady!” Ragnor hurried forward, looking appalled. He grabbed the prince’s shoulder, shaking him.

“She tried to kill me,” Magnus snarled, twisting her arms up higher, “besides, she’s not a lady. She’s a thief.”

“A thief that took only a few roses and tried to pay you for them!” Isabelle gasped as tears sprang to her eyes.

“They were my prized possessions!” Magnus roared and Ragnor struck him across the face.

Stunned, he released the girl and she whirled on him, eyes wide.

“That’s enough.” His friend said coldly, glaring at the prince.

He stepped away from Magnus, holding out a hand towards the Lightwood girl.

“Come, I will see you to your horse.”

Isabelle shook her head.

“I’m not leaving without Alec.” She said quietly and Ragnor glanced up at the prince, tilting his head to study him. He pursed his lips and shook his head.

“I’m sorry. Unfortunately, Magnus is right and you did take those roses without permission. Your brother made a deal and he must fulfil his end of it.

Seeing the princess’ face fall, he added on quickly, “but we _will_ take good care of him.”

He glanced between the brother and sister and retreated to the darkness of the stairwell.

“I will leave the two of you to say goodbye.”

 

 


	6. Nowhere to Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Magnus is a big boy, he can eat by himself.” Catarina grinned and Alec felt a rush of relief.
> 
> He was not alone in this castle after all.

“Give him a room, Magnus. You have so many and he can’t stay there in that tiny cell forever.” Ragnor said but Magnus clearly was not listening to him.

The prince had his arms folded across his chest and was staring out of the window of his room. He appeared to be thinking hard, so Ragnor was surprised at the words that came out of his mouth.

“I need you to leave. And take Cat with you.” He said without preamble.

Magnus’ eyes darkened and he turned to look him.

“Do you really have to ask, Ragnor? You struck me last night. All for a spoiled princess.” He growled and Ragnor stared.

“You’re kicking us out because I hit you when you were not making sense?” Disbelief coloured his tone and he huffed when the prince nodded, his gaze icy.

“No, I’m not leaving the Lightwood boy in your care. God knows you might kill him.”

“This isn’t a choice, Ragnor,” Magnus said coldly, not moving from his stand in front of the window. Ragnor raised his chin defiantly.

He turned to leave the room, his shoulders stiff.

“We’re not leaving, Magnus. Not until you show that you are capable of caring about someone else other than yourself.”

 

* * *

 

 

Alec was cold. Freezing, in fact. The chill seeped through the stone and wind swept through the window, ruffling his hair.

His body hurt from lying on the hard floor for so long and he had nothing but his soaking wet cloak for warmth.

He had wrung out the cloak as best as he could and huddled in a corner, trying to make himself as small as possible. But the stone walls held no warmth and his lips were turning blue from the cold.

He was all cried out, his tears freezing on his cheeks as they rolled down his face. He had held in his sobs, not wanting to give his captor any satisfaction from seeing him cry.

The man, Magnus, had not returned, after double checking the lock on the door before stalking off.

Alec wondered if he would die of hypothermia before the night was over. His fingers felt as if they might fall off any moment and he shivered again, wincing when his cheek brushed against the freezing stone.

Thunder rumbled and the rain had not stopped falling, strong winds buffeting the tower.

The prince could barely hear the footsteps approaching above the roar of the storm. He looked up though when the door creaked.

He remained in his corner as a shadow fell over him, a gentle hand curling around his forearm.

“Come.”

 It was the man from earlier, the one who had escorted Isabelle off the grounds. His hand was warm and he steadied the prince when he staggered getting up, his knees frozen and shaky.

“I didn’t get your… your name earlier.” Alec panted, his breath misting white. He shivered and the man shook his head, his expression disapproving.

“I’m Ragnor. You’ll have to excuse Magnus. He is quite the drama queen.” His accent was thick, curling pleasantly around the words. Alec leaned against him weakly, eyes pleading.

“Isabelle is she…”

“She’ll make it alright. I gave her a charm that will help her find her way.” Ragnor said gently, the prince’s features softening with relief. He patted his shoulder and picked up Alec’s soaking wet cloak. 

“Let’s get you a warm bath and some food, shall we?”

 -

The room that he was led into was beautifully decorated, the big bay windows draped with blue velvet curtains. His cloak was dripping water onto a plush white carpet.

Ragnor tutted, pushing open an adjoining door to reveal a splendid bathroom, fully furnished.

A bathtub sat at its centre, steam rising off the water. The air smelled of roses and lavender, sweet and calming.

Alec could feel his muscles relaxing as he made his way over to the tub. Ragnor brought him a fluffy white robe, hanging it over a golden towel rod near the tub.

“I assume you can wash yourself,” He said with a pointed glance at the dishes full of every soap and oil that Alec could ever need.

The prince managed a nod, barely able to keep his jaw from dropping.

The castle had looked dilapidated from the outside. He had not expected to see such lavish facilities. Ragnor nodded at him and exited the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

His fingers trembled as he fumbled with his shirt, tugging it off his body hastily. He felt disgusting and cold. The water was practically calling to him.

Alec groaned with pleasure as he sank into the water, the warmth washing over him. His frozen limbs thawed slowly as he let himself soak, uncaring of the time passing.

He wanted to sink beneath the surface of the water and stay there forever.

But Ragnor knocked on the door after an undetermined amount of time and announced that Magnus wished for him to join him for dinner.

_The nerve of him._

The prince scoffed, dragging himself out of the now cold water and wrapping the soft robe around him. He yanked open the bathroom door, his expression impassive.

“Tell him that I would rather starve than eat with him.” He said icily and before Ragnor could protest, slammed the door shut again.

His heart pounding, Alec slid down in front of the door, hugging his knees. The scent of roses and lavender still hung in the air, reminding him heavily of his mother. He wondered what Magnus would do to him when he received the word.

He pressed his face into his knees as tears welled once more in his eyes. His teeth dug into his lower lip and he suppressed the sobs once more, fingers clenching in the fabric of the robe.

There was another knock on the door, and a voice, a female one this time, calling his name.

“Alec, open the door please.” Alec stiffened, freezing in place. The woman’s tone was gentle and soothing, as if she was speaking to a child.

“Who are you?” He asked before he could help himself.

There was a bear of silence before he got an answer.

“Catarina Loss. Will you open the door?”

Alec rose to his feet, pulling the door open.

Catarina Loss was a dark-skinned woman with jet black hair bound up in a neat bun. Her smile was gentle as she surveyed Alec, who was far taller than she.

“I don’t want to eat with him.” Alec blurted out, immediately ashamed of how shaky his voice was. He clapped a hand over his mouth and hiccuped, forcing down the sob that threatened to rise out of him.

He missed Izzy and his castle, the cosy warm place his mother had made home after his father had died. He missed Jace and Max and his mother. The thought that he would never see any of them ever again made him sick.

“You don’t have to.” She murmured, stepping aside. Alec chewed his lip nervously as she turned around, walking out the bedroom where fresh clothes had been laid out for him.

“Magnus is a big boy, he can eat by himself.” Catarina grinned and Alec felt a rush of relief.

He was not alone in this castle after all.

 

 


	7. Beautiful Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magic.
> 
> The bitch had cursed him with magic.

Maryse Lightwood was worried.

She had not slept all night, tossing and turning in her bed as she awaited her son’s return. Even her most failsafe method for falling asleep had not worked, the warm milk and cinnamon sitting heavy in her stomach as she fretted over her son’s safety.

At last, when the sun’s rays fell over the foot of her bed, dawn painting the sky a rosy pink colour, she rose from her bed, dressing quickly as the footsteps of soldiers echoed in the hall right outside her chambers.

“Your Majesty! The prince’s horse has been sighted at the city’s gates!”

Maryse tugged her loose dark hair back, sliding into slippers as fast as she could. Her heart was thudding in her chest as she raced down the stairs, the very same route she had taken the night before when Valiant had come to them, riderless.

She made it to the doors by some miracle, without tripping or stumbling and was at the door just as a black horse came cantering into the courtyard, heavy hooves striking hard against the cobblestones. 

Its hide was damp with sweat and it was mouthing at the bit, pawing the ground nervously. A girl sat atop the saddle, her face wet with tears, soaked to the bone. She was still crying as Maryse ran up to her, reaching out to help her from the saddle.

“Isabelle, oh my baby.” Isabelle buried her face into her mother’s chest and wept as she was helped inside.

“Where, where is Alec?” Maryse was almost afraid to speak the words, fearing that her carefully worn countenance would fail her. She held her daughter close as the servants bustled around, lighting the fire in the Great Hall.

Isabelle collapsed into the armchair, sobbing as if her heart would break. A green crystal hung on a silver chain dangled from her neck, glowing softly. Maryse stripped the wet cloak off the princess, gathering her into her arms.

“What’s going on?” She turned her head to see her adopted son, Jace standing by the grand staircase, bi coloured eyes staring worriedly at his sister.

He approached them warily, turning his head to look questioningly at his mother.

“Where’s Alec?” Maryse opened her mouth, but words failed her. She glanced down at her daughter and Isabelle pressed her hands to her mouth, whimpering, “he’s not coming back, ever.”

“Alec’s not coming home.”

 

* * *

 

The food was delicious. A mixture of rice and spices that Alec had never had before. There was some sort of flatbread and hummus drizzled over with some spicy sauce, mushroom soup so creamy that it was nearly too rich to eat. A glass of butterfly pea flower lemonade, dyed a pretty purple and a sweet lemon custard for dessert, covered in a dome of glass made of sugar.

He had eaten in his room, like Catarina promised, dressed in his bathrobes. She let him bolt the door, promising that she would not let Magnus anywhere near him until he was ready.

Alec did not think he would ever be ready to see his captor again. He thought it would be too soon even if he never had to see him again. No matter how beautiful the place was, how beautiful _Magnus_ was, he was still his jailer.

The room was silent, disturbed only by the wind whistling occasionally through the slightly opened window. Alec had looked out of it, wondering if he could climb out, but his room was too high up. If he tried, he would have fallen and broken his neck.

Idly, he wondered if Izzy had made it home alright, if his family would ever be able to cope without him. The burn of resentment rose up like bile in his throat as he stared at the sugar glass glittering prettily up at him. 

He thanked them both, Ragnor and Catarina, for trying so hard, but he wanted to go home. He did not want this lovely illusion of safety and luxury, he wanted his mother and his siblings.

Fury and sadness boiled inside him, igniting a fire in his veins. The pretty dessert felt almost mocking the more he looked at it. His fists clenched and he let out an involuntary roar, thrusting the entire tray off the bed. The sugar shattered, as did the rest of the plates and glasses, breaking into a million pieces at the foot of his bed and making an absolute racket.

Alec crawled to the head of the bed, curling into a ball. He pulled the covers over his head even as footsteps pounded in the corridor outside his room. The doorknob rattled and Ragnor’s accented voice called out gently.

“Are you alright in there, Alec?”

Alec could not bring himself to speak, instead burying his face into the pillow. It was silky soft and so unlike his own pillow back home that it made him even more homesick. He let the tears come, sliding down the planes of his face and soaking into the silk pillowcase.

 

* * *

  

Magnus stared in horror at the wreckage that once was the dining room table. The mahogany table was cracked into two, right down the centre, sharp splinters of wood sticking straight up in the air. Blue sparks still crackled on the tips of his fingers, lingering traces of magic.

All of the glass and tableware were shattered on the floor, food spilling all over the carpet. Ragnor had Catarina behind his back, shielding her from the worst of the damage, his red suit splattered with orange from the pumpkin soup.

They both had twin looks of alarm on their faces, wide-eyed with shock. Magnus sucked in a sharp breath when Catarina’s eyes turned to him, a jolt of fear rippling across her features. He felt his heart crack for the second time in his life.

Magnus curled his fingers into fists, his body beginning to shake. He spun around and fled, sprinting out of the room, leaving his shell-shocked friends behind

His surroundings blurred as he ran, his lungs burning, his heart pounding. He did not know where he was going, only that he needed _out_.

He could not breathe _._

The walls seemed to be closing in on him, stealing the breath from his lungs.

Magnus shoved open the heavy oak doors that bore down on him, nearly slipping when his feet landed hard on green grass made slippery by rain. He skidded over the wet grass, ignoring the rain still pouring down from the skies, still running.

The downpour soaked him down to the bone, drenching his clothes and flattening his hair to his head. Blue sparks flickered on his fingers and Magnus clenched them tight, shoving them into the pockets of his coat.

He stumbled and his foot skated over rain-slicked grass, throwing his centre of gravity. His knees buckled and he plunged into the ground, just managing to avoid getting a mouthful of wet grass by rolling.

Something hard slammed into his shoulder and Magnus cried out, the first sob tearing from his throat. He jerked up, gasping when he narrowly cracking his head on the silver bench.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, the prince stared at them as blue sparks crackled to life on his fingertips, undeterred by the rain.

_You will become a monster before anyone will love you._

Those hateful words slammed into him without warning and Magnus wailed, curling up in a ball beneath the bench.

Magic.

The bitch had cursed him with magic.

He squeezed his hands so hard that his nails left crescent moons in his palm, allowing the tears rip through him, mingling with the rain. Every now and then, his eyes would flick to the oak doors, hoping against hope that someone, _anyone,_ would come out to get him. Anytime now, Catarina would come rushing out, ignoring the rain soaking her dark hair to wrap a towel around his shoulders. Ragnor would follow her, yelling curses and swearing strange British curses that only he would understand.

They would understand, they _had to_ understand.

No matter how much he pretended to be untouchable, Magnus only ever wanted one thing in life. He kept glancing up at the door, murmuring prayers that his parents taught to him under his breath, his cursed hands clutched to his chest.

The rain roared in his ears as he whispered, “please. Please, come for me.”

He rocked back and forth beneath the bench, whispering the words like a prayer, until the skies turned pink, before the sun was spilling rays of light onto the earth, the rain slowing to a trickle. 

No one came.


	8. Just Give Me A Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alec learns not to fear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is rather muddled up. But I'm gonna post it because if I agonize over it any longer I'll just ditch the story.

“You’re leaving,” Magnus said, his eyes cast down. It was not a question. He was still dressed in last night’s clothes, the fabric clinging to his skin.

 

He looked dead, as if someone had taken his heart and crushed it between his fingertips. Catarina’s heart ached for him, but Ragnor had insisted.

 

“We won’t be far away. Still within the property. Clearly you need the space. Perhaps we’ve been crowding you these past years.” Ragnor said curtly, eyeing the prince up and down.

 

 _No._ Magnus wanted to say. He wanted to spill everything, like the rush of a river. He wanted to tell them that everything was alright, he didn’t need them to give him _space,_ not when that was all he had for the most of his life.

 

Blue sparks crackled from his fingertips before he could speak however and he shoved his hands into his damp pockets, dipping his head immediately to avoid seeing the look of fear crossing his friend’s face.

 

“Besides, someone has to look after the prince you took hostage.” Something snapped deep within Magnus and he sucked in a breath, his gaze hardening.

 

“Right. Goodbye then. I’ll see you around.”

 

Spinning on his heels, Magnus stalked back inside, slamming the heavy door shut. He was proud that he managed to make it to the couch sitting in front of the fire before he cracked, letting the tears pour down his face.

 

A stair creaking startled him out of his crying and the sight of Alexander standing at the top of the steps staring down at him surprised him enough that the tears stopped.

 

He glared up at the prince, well aware of how awful he looked, with last night’s make up streaked across his face, his still damp clothes clinging to his slight frame.

 

“What do you want?” Magnus growled and Alexander narrowed his eyes at him, the fear from the night before already gone.

 

-

 

Alec knew he should not feel sorry for him. He had taken him from his family, for gods’ sake. There was no reason to feel sorry for this man.

 

But seeing him kneeling by the fire, black streaks and tears staining his face, he felt something inside him shift. He was only human after all.

 

“Are you okay?” He could not help himself, swallowing the remnants of his fear.

 

Ragnor had told him about the magic, how Magnus’ rage had cleaved the dining table into two and shattered the dinner plates. He had even asked if Alec would leave with them, for his safety and Alec would have, if he did not have a dangerously stupid sense of honour.

 

They had assured him that they would return often, to check on him and that was enough for him. For now.

 

“Fine,” Magnus said shortly, pushing himself to his feet. He wobbled and Alec barely stopped himself from across to catch him.

 

Instead, he watched the man stalk out of the room, disappearing behind a corner. Heaving a sigh, he went off in search of a kitchen to make himself breakfast.

 

The sizzling of the eggs in the pan calmed him, reminding him of all the times he would wake early and sneak into the kitchen to watch the cooks prepare their fuel for the day. They had taught him to cook at his request, out of curiousity and Alec thanked the heavens for that now as he was actually self-sufficient.

 

At least until Ragnor and Catarina returned to check on him.

 

Briefly, he wondered if he should leave some food for Magnus. Without any conscious thought, he started to plate the eggs, pouring milk into a tall glass.

 

He was halfway through cracking two more eggs into the pans when he realised that he had no idea where Magnus slept, or where he would even be. Pushing the thought to the back of his mind, Alec shook the pan, carefully flipping the eggs onto their yolk side.

 

They were done quickly and he plated them, along with extra toast and milk. Setting them onto the kitchen table, Alec covered them with foil to keep them warm and finished up his own breakfast, not wanting to run into Magnus should he appeared in search of food.

 

Chewing his last slice of toast, Alec made his way out of the kitchen, wandering along the empty halls. Doors lined the hallway, some locked and others just inviting him to step inside.

 

He wandered along the corridor, occasionally stopping to push open a few doors until he found a set of torches framing a massive pair of doors made of heavy oak.

 

Alec’s jaw dropped the moment he pushed open them open.

 

Despite their size, they had been tucked away right at the end of a corridor that he almost avoided. If it were not for the torch at its front suddenly flaring to life, he would have turned the other way.

 

The doors were made of heavy oak and were so big that he had trouble opening them. They were obviously well used as the hinges opened smoothly and did not creak even with their weight.

 

Shelves upon shelves of books were laid out before him in neat rows and still more curved around the room, long ladders stretching up. The floor was laid with plush red carpets and the walls flickered with torches.

 

A giant chandelier swung from the ceiling, crystals gleaming and reflecting light, and there were shelves rising up to meet the ceiling, stuffed to the brim with books.

 

The prince took a wary step forward, his jaw still on the floor. _Izzy would love this place._ He gaped at the shelves in awe.

 

He walked among the books, drinking in the beauty of the place. His own library back home was not even a quarter of this size. It would take longer than his mortal life to read every book in _this_ library.

 

Alec touched the spine of a book gently, pulling it off the shelf. It was a collection of fairytales, of all things, just like the ones his mother would read to him when he was a boy.

 

_East of the Sun and West of the Moon, The Princess on the Glass Hill, Sleeping Beauty, Beauty and the Beast._

 

He turned the pages of the book slowly, savouring the rich illustrations and beautiful script scattered across the page as he walked, his feet wandering in search of a place to sit.

 

Sunlight pouring in from a nearby window across his path pulled his attention away from his book and he looked up, eyes widening at the picturesque setting he had arrived upon.

 

There was an alcove carved into the wall, a massive bay window set against it, the rays of the morning sun spilling across the gilded couch. The cushions were velveted and soft beneath his touch as he sat down, tucking his long limbs under him.

 

Alec must have spent hours there, slowly perusing the shelves, reading everything he could get his hands on. He had not had this much free time in age, his crown prince duties always keeping him from the books he wanted to read.

 

Now, there was nothing to do _but_ read.

 

-

 

The library became his sanctuary and he went there almost every day after he had spent some time exploring the castle grounds.

 

There were always new books to read and he devoured them hungrily, often curling up in the alcove with a drink and stacks of books.

 

He had never encountered anyone in the library before, and he never expected to.

 

Which was why he was so startled when he ventured farther into a different section of shelves and found Magnus Bane curled up in an armchair before a dead fireplace, stacks of books littered around him.

 

“What the-!” Alec yelped, his book slipping from his hands. Magnus looked up at him with a very unimpressed look and caught the book deftly in one hand.

 

Blue sparks drifted around his hands as he drew the book into his lap and Alec could have sworn he saw a look of shame dart across the man’s face but it was gone so quickly that he thought he had imagined it.

 

He had not seen Magnus since the day Ragnor had taken Catarina and fled the castle. The man seemed to actively avoid him and they both took their meals separately.

 

Magnus turned the book, cocking his head as he read aloud the title, “The Firebird and Other Fairytales.”

 

He raised his eyebrows and Alec felt his face flush, his guard raising almost immediately.

 

“I didn’t take you for someone who enjoys _fairytales,_ Alexander.” The way his name rolled off his tongue sounded almost seductive and Alec suppressed a shiver, biting back a retort about how he should use his name.

 

“It’s interesting,” he said instead, holding out his hand. “Could I have it back?”

 

Magnus was surveying him with a strange look on his face, manicured nails tapping gently on the book cover. He rose so suddenly that Alec startled again, jerking backwards.

 

“I think you may like this.” He said softly, walking over the fireplace.Magnus set the book onto the side table and pushed aside the picture hanging atop the mantlepiece. With a wave of his hand, he opened the safe set into the wall.

 

The book he pulled from it was enormous, and Alec could tell that it was heavy, from the way his biceps bulged as he carried it back over to the chair, setting it down carefully.

 

“This was from before I was born. My mother gave it to me when I could read.” The tone in Magnus’ voice was wistful as he turned the pages.

 

Alec stared.

 

The pages were yellowed with age, but the illustrations were still rich with colour. A stark red rose stood in the middle of the page, edged with gold so that it almost looked like it was glowing.

 

Magnus brushed his fingers over the picture, his face tight with an unfamiliar expression before gently closing the cover.

 

“I’ll leave this here.” He said softly, before turning and walking away, disappearing out of the library.

 

-

 

Magnus quickly realised that the young prince was very fond of exercise. He watched him shamelessly, through his Enchanted Mirror when he could not see him through the windows.

 

Alexander would drag out the archery targets from a hidden shed, polish up the bow and sharpen the arrows just for an afternoon. He was a great shot, from what Magnus could see from his study, striking out the red targets almost effortlessly.

 

Of course, Magnus watched the prince more than he watched the targets. How could he resist? The afternoon sun glinting off Alexander’s sweat drenched skin when he deemed the weather too hot for a shirt, the prince’s dark hair matted to his forehead as he nocked another arrow.

 

His biceps bulged from the effort, his fingers curled delicately around the red fletching of the arrow. Magnus could not see his eyes from where he stood but they were narrowed with concetration, all of his focus on the brilliant red of the bullseye.

 

Magnus’ fingers tightened from where they were curled around the window grille as he watched the prince loose the arrow, red fletching blurring as it stuck hard into the centre of the target. He felt the thud in his stomach as Alec straightened, sunlight dancing across his dark hair.

 

It had been a while since he had spoken to the prince, preferring instead to hide away and watch him. He still saw him occasionally, curled up in the tiny alcove in the sun with Magnus’ book of fairytales at his side but Magnus always made sure to steer clear.

 

He was not sure how much of his company would be welcome and despite the hostility that he had shown in the beginning, Magnus was not cruel enough to subject Alexander Lightwood to any more of his presence than he would like.

 

So Magnus stayed away, only venturing out to the lake that Alec regularly swam at when he was sure the prince had left, to enjoy his own swim, and staying out of the gardens whenever Alec pulled out the bow and targets.

 

But they found each other often enough, always at unexpected times.

 

Alec had shown up at the lake with a book in hand, while Magnus was in the middle of his swim. He had choked and nearly swallowed half the lake when he spotted Alec sitting beneath the tree overshadowing the lake with his book.

 

“H…How long-” Magnus stuttered as he swam to the edge, fingers digging into the soft grass. He was almost completely naked beneath the water, except for a pair of _really short_ swim trunks.

 

“A little while since you started,” Alec commented, glancing up from his book to flash him a sweet smile. He turned a page in his book, smiling absently. “You look really good by the way.”

 

Magnus spluttered at the very thought that Alec had been _watching._ Magic sparked blue on his fingertips before he could think about it and a line of white blossoms bloomed across the grass all of a sudden.

 

“Shit,” He muttered, dragging himself out of the water. Alec gazed at him slowly, twirling one of the flowers he had plucked from the ground between his fingers. There was no longer any fear in his eyes. Magnus could not remember the last time anyone had looked at him with such appreciation.

 

“I’m not afraid, you know. In case you were wondering.” Alec said quietly as he watched Magnus pull a towel around himself, glaring at the white line of flowers as if they were nightshade.

 

“Well, you should be.” Magnus snapped tensely and he cursed when red blossoms joined the white ones, speckling the green grass prettily. He still had weak control over the magic at most, mostly only manifesting when he experienced any strong kind of emotion.

 

Alec cocked his head and shut his book. He rose from his seat, walking over to Magnus. Dropping onto one knee before the man, he tucked the blossom gently behind Magnus’ ear.

 

As golden eyes flicked up to gaze at him, Alec whispered, “I’m not, because you haven’t given me a reason to.”

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Weathering The Winter Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days passed slowly and in the blink of an eye at the same time. Alec had been there in the castle for almost an entire season, and he had barely spoken to Magnus.
> 
> Even after the incident by the lake, Magnus did not seem to warm up to him. So Alec wandered the unexplored halls alone, on the days he did not feel like reading or swimming.
> 
> There were no horses in the stables, no animals on the residence at all. It was as if they had all been scared off. And as autumn fell into winter, the quiet around the castle became heavier, as if cloaked in the mystique the season carried.
> 
> Alec took to opening every door he could, meandering through rooms filled with strange artefacts.
> 
> That was how he found the rose.

 

 

After his outburst that had destroyed the dining table, Magnus had thought that his friends would have fled and never returned. Ragnor’s face had said as much, so he was surprised to see them one day in the kitchen, unpacking sacks of food like they had never left.

 

He froze in the threshold, staring as Ragnor unloaded the milk, four full jugs of it onto the dining table. Catarina was at the stove, stirring what smelt like scrambled eggs in a pan.

 

“You’re back.” Catarina’s dark head popped up at the sound of his voice and she smiled warmly at him, with none of the fear. Ragnor reacted with far more caution, his eyes still wary as he put away the milk. 

 

An elbow to his side made him jump and he grumbled under his breath as Cat abandoned her station, walking over to wrap Magnus in a hug. The prince was still in a state of shock as the scent of her familiar perfume enveloped him.

 

“Just for a bit of a tidy and supplies, since you won’t leave the compound.” She said cheerily, as if they had not packed up their things and left just becauase Magnus had destroyed a table _with magic._

 

Magnus blinked and Cat yelped when his hands sent gave her an electric shock, blue sparks fizzling out. He snatched his hands back, stuffing them into the pockets of his coat.

 

“I’m sorry!” He blurted out, when he saw the fear flash briefly in his friend’s face. His hands clenched into fists in his pockets and he bit his lip nervously. “I haven’t got much control over it yet.”

 

Cat softened and patted his shoulder gingerly. “You’ll get the hang of it.” She said, glancing back at Ragnor who was watching them with an unreadable expression.

 

He turned back to the eggs, stirring them occasionally.

 

“Be careful, and practice often,” Ragnor muttered and Magnus gave him a tiny smile. He still cared after all.

 

* * *

 

 

The days passed slowly and in the blink of an eye at the same time. Alec had been there in the castle for almost an entire season, and he had barely spoken to Magnus.

 

Even after the incident by the lake, Magnus did not seem to warm up to him. So Alec wandered the unexplored halls alone, on the days he did not feel like reading or swimming.

 

There were no horses in the stables, no animals on the residence at all. It was as if they had all been scared off. And as autumn fell into winter, the quiet around the castle became heavier, as if cloaked in the mystique the season carried.

 

Alec took to opening every door he could, meandering through rooms filled with strange artefacts.

 

That was how he found the rose.

 

It was encased in glass, etched with strange symbols. The bell jar was cloaked in frost, the rose itself perfect in its entirety.

 

Its petals were as red as blood, seeming to glow with their own soft light and the thorns on its stem were wickedly sharp. There were petals on the table, curled up, black and dead

 

The snow was falling outside the window of the room, and Alec could feel the chill in his bones. But it looked almost as if, there was snow, _inside_ the bell jar as well.

 

The prince stared, open-mouthed at the artefact standing in the centre of the room, almost pulsing with life.

 

He took a step forward, and then another, eyes wide. His fingers closed on the wooden table and there was frost on that too. His breath misted in the air as he took in the beauty of the rose.

 

Tiny icicles clung to the petals, and a mini snow storm swirled inside the jar.

 

That should _not_ be possible.

 

Alec’s fingers had barely brushed against the cool glass before there was a terrible roar, one full of fury and fear.

 

The prince swung around, his hip bumping the table and for a brief moment, the room seemed to hold its breath.

 

The table shook but remained on its feet and Alec screamed in shock when a hand closed around his collar, yanking him away from the rose.

 

Golden cat eyes flared open in the darkness of the room, pinning him to where he stood.

 

The window panes rattled as a wave of thunder roared outside the castle and as if shaken loose by it, a single petal fluttered onto the table, furling up the very moment it touched the wood, black spreading through the red like cancer.

 

“What have you done?” It was a whisper, but to Alec, it sounded like a growl, laced with terror and accusation.

 

Blue sparks gathered at his fingertips and the prince backed away, the room shuddering at the blast.

 

Fear coiled icy in the pit of his stomach and his heart was in his mouth as he lunged for the door, fingers trembling around the doorknob.

 

A bolt of lightning lit up the room and Magnus’ gold green eyes leered at him, teeth bared. Alec staggered back, fingers clawing wildly at the door. His heart was hammering in his chest as the man backed him against the door, looking for all the world like a vengeful beast.

 

“I _told_ you, you should be afraid.” Alec wrenched the door open at those words, slamming it behind him as he sprinted out of the room, terror clawing at his chest. His ears roared as his blood pounded wildly through his bloodstream.

 

He wanted out.

 

Out of this place.

 

-

 

Magnus realised his mistake almost the moment he had lunged at the prince, his hands curled into claws.

 

The snow was bearing heavily down on the ground, covering everything in its path in white. The winds were huge, buffeting the castle as they swirled the world outside into a white blur.

 

It was a blizzard.

 

Magnus had no idea where the prince intended to go but the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach told him that it was not anywhere in the safety of the castle.

 

Furious as he was, Magnus had no intention of allowing the prince to leave the castle in this weather. It would be suicide.

 

The storm continued to rage outside the windows as he bolted out of the room in search of the prince.

 

“Alexander!”

 

A cold blast of wind struck him the moment he arrived in the Great Hall and goosebumps rose up on his skin immediately.

 

_No._

 

The doors stood ajar, letting in the freezing gusts of wind. Frost was already coating the edges of the door and creeping in the floor.

 

Without a second thought, Magnus spun around, heading up to his study as fast as he could.

 

How long could the human body survive in such temperatures? Thirty? Maybe just ten.

 

“Show me Alexander!” He cried, fingers closing around the handle of the mirror. The mirror’s silver surface rippled and an image appeared, of Alec running through the forest. He had no cloak, just whatever he had on his back.

 

As Magnus watched in horror, shadows melted out of the darkness, forming corporeal shapes. Snarling wolves leapt at Alec’s heels, razor-sharp teeth and claws outstretched.

 

The prince staggered, slipping on the slick ice beneath his feet and before he could see him fall, Magnus was curling his fingers, a shimmering portal forming mid-air.

 

“Alexander!”

 

Alec yelped when a warm body softened his fall, catching hold of his shoulders. He staggered, eyes wide with shock.

 

Magnus stood before him, blue magic gathering in his palms. His golden eyes were glowing as he yanked him behind his back, a blast of magic sending the two wolves flying back.

 

“Help me,” he murmured, a sword materializing in his hands. Alec snatched up the sword, swinging it at the nearest wolf. The blade crackled with blue energy and the wolf yelped, jerking back to avoid being skewered.

 

Magnus sent another wolf flying back, trying to focus the rest of his energy into creating a portal. He could hear Alec’s teeth chattering and see the frost clinging to his hair.

 

But the wolves kept coming. Whenever he struck one down, another took its place. Alec was already tiring, his fingers cramping from gripping the sword so tightly.His breath was coming out in pants, white mist puffing into the air as he swung at a wolf that had come too close.

 

“Ah!”

 

Magnus had only just turned to help him when his side burst into excruciating pain. He screamed out, right leg buckling as he swung around, blue sparks sending the creature flying back.

 

“Magnus!” Alec moved to catch him before he could fall, Magnus blasting away a wolf that leapt at him.

 

Blood dripped onto the frozen ground, staining it red with his blood as he turned to focus his attention on the onslaught of unfriendly creatures.

 

_Where had all of them come from?_

 

Magnus kicked a wolf away, bolts of lightning striking out the squirming bodies straining to reach him. His magic was wearing down, and he needed to conserve enough to create a portal.

 

Alec yelped beside him and batted away the claw that had raked against his cheek, stabbing the wolf hard in the gut. Magnus roared in pain when two wolves caught him by surprise, razor-sharp teeth sinking deep into his shoulder.

 

A blow on the back of his legs sent him crumpling to his knees and the wolves swarmed him, claws catching him in every direction.

 

_Oh._

 

T _hey’re attracted to me._ Magnus thought dizzily as he struggled to gain his footing, slamming his ring clad fist into the snout of a wolf snapping at his chest. He made his decision in a split second, right before something clawed him straight across his chest, digging in deep.

 

“You need to go!” He yelled, pulling the wolf off of him, flinging out of his hands. A portal materialized to Alec’s left and he slashed a wolf into half before yelling back, “what about you?”

 

Magnus tried to rise, but his legs would not support him. He was losing too much blood. The air was full of snarls and growls, Alec’s occasional grunt of effort as he sent a wolf flying back.

 

“Go!” He roared, his cat eyes glowing gold as the magic shredded any wolf that was touching him. Alec looked at him as if he had lost his mind, kicking aside a wolf carcass that lay in his path.

 

“I’m not leaving you behind!” His tone rose up into a shout as a wolf body slammed him, nearly tipping him off his feet.

 

Magnus flung out his hands, the portal wavering.

 

“Alexander, go!” He snarled, ducking to avoid a wolf leaping at his head.

 

There was a roaring in his ears as he gathered the last scraps of his strength. His mind went blank as he unleashed all of the magic he had left, incinerating the rest of the wolves.

 

Alec jerked back in shock, watching as the wolves all around him disintegrate into dust. The forest fell silent, the clouds drifting away to reveal the big round moon hidden behind them.

 

Pale moonlight fell across the forest, illuminating the carnage that lay before them.

 

There was so much blood.

 

The shimmering portal flickered and shuddered before vanishing into thin air.

 

“Magnus, Magnus!”

 

The prince bolted, moving to catch him as the man slumped onto the ground, completely spent. His sword melted into nothing as he dropped onto his knees, cradling Magnus close to him.

 

He was wounded badly, bleeding from multiple deep scratches and bites. Blood was pooling at his feet and his clothes were shredded. In the silence, Magnus could hear Alec’s harsh breathing and his teeth chattering as the snow continued falling.

 

The wind had stopped blowing and the chill settled upon him, as the adrenaline faded to a dull buzz. He shivered weakly as Alec pulled him closer, panting softly.

 

“I…I’m sorry,” the prince whispered, guilt carving into his handsome features. Magnus shook his head, too exhausted to even speak. His lashes fluttered, snowflakes catching on them and Alec brushed them away.

 

The last thing he remembered was Alec gathering him into his arms, rising to his feet and then he knew no more.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think besides the flower scene, this was one of my favourite chapters to write.
> 
> You can come and talk to me on tumblr, [snippets-of-imagination](https://snippets-of-imagination.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [@VOlympianlove](https://twitter.com/VOlympianlove). I’m a newbie to the fandom and would love to just talk theories and stuff!


	10. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I had a hard time dividing up the chapters and deciding which parts went where and alot of times my brain just wasn't into it.

 

 

Magnus dreamt of the storm, white and fierce in its fury. He dreamt of the wind whipping against his cheek and the sting of the snowflakes against his skin. The howling of wolves cut through the winter storm and then all he knew was pain.

 

The pain in his heart, the pain on his body as claws and teeth raked against him, even as he railed to get away. It was a maelstorm of pain and sound and tears, until all is still, and he could only hear the sound of his ragged panting, see the stains his blood left in the snow.

 

He could see the stars in the sky but a shadow blotted them out and then there was pressure on his right hand, a gentle voice calling him home.

 

Magnus awoke to the heat of the fireplace filling the room. Sweat dripped down his face and into silken sheets. His body ached and every movement brought pain. There was a dark head at his side, carefully binding his bloodied hand. The prince turned his head to call out but his throat was too dry.

 

Alec looked up when he stirred, a relieved smile gracing his features. He wrapped the remaininggauze tightly and rose to his feet.

 

“You’re awake,” he murmured and it was with a startling revelation that Magnus found himself completely naked. His eyes widened and he snatched at the closest blankets, his cheeks flushing red in the heat of the room. Before his hand could even brush against the sheets, the pain caused him to cry out, his body flopping back uselessly onto the bed.

 

Alec was looking at him uncertainly, biting his lip in an annoyingly endearing fashion. He crouched back down, his arm sliding around his back to support Magnus’ weight as he helped him to sit up.The blankets were drawn over him and Alec moved to douse the fire in the hearth.

 

“I…I didn’t know where your room was. So I brought you to mine,” he stuttered when he returned, fretting over the bandage wrapped around Magnus’ right shoulder.

 

Magnus blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to decide if he was still in a fevered dream. Surely the prince would have left him to die in the snow after he had scared him away?

 

“Magnus.”

 

Hazel eyes stared at him in concern, a gentle hand brushing against his forehead. Magnus leaned into the touch even as Alec gave a little gasp.

 

“You’re burning up.”

 

The glass by the bedside was snatched up and pressed against his lips. Even though it was difficult, Magnus drank, the liquid cool against his burning throat. He shifted and winced.

 

The wound on his shoulder was deep and needed stitches and Alec clearly did not have the expertise to do so. It was bleeding again, crimson blood staining the white bandage.

 

“Don’t move,” the prince urged, his arm strong against his back as he laid Magnus back down again. Magnus hummed weakly as his hair was brushed out of his eyes tenderly and a cold compress was laid over his forehead.

 

“Once the snow has passed I will look for Ragnor and Catarina. They will fix you up.”

 

There was a hand stroking his cheek, gentle in its touch and a kiss laid against his hair, before Magnus fell back into darkness.

 

-

 

Alec was fretting. He had not left Magnus’ bedside for three days, except to relieve himself and fetch more cold water and ice.

 

The prince was delirious, on the rare occasions he awoke, often calling out for his parents helplessly like a small child. His temperature was barely helped with the cold compresses Alec made for his forehead, and the small sips of cold water he made him drink.

 

When he was lucid, Alec fed him soup, tiny mouthfuls so that his stomach would not rebel. But there was nothing more that he could do for the wounds. He cleaned them daily, changing the bandages for fresh ones, but it was not enough.

 

His shoulder wound was too severe to close on its own and the ones on his chest as well, were dangerously close to infection. Alec slept at his side, often awakening when Magnus’ breathing turned shallow, fearing that he would lose him before the snow had passed.

 

It was on the fourth day that the door to his bedroom opened and Catarina walked in, brown eyes wide with astonishment.

 

“What happened?” She gasped and Alec shot his feet.

 

Relief spread through him and the words spilled out without any consious thought.

 

“Wolves. There were wolves. We were attacked and… and he took them down. Too much magic.And snow. He’s feverish and there… there may be an infection. Please help him.” He rambled even as Catarina pulled aside the blankets to see the extent of the damage.

 

Her face paled at the sight and she was on her feet, yelling for Ragnor to bring her supplies.

 

Alec stood by, relieved and grateful that there was someone who knew what they were doing.

 

-

 

The first thing Magnus registered when he came to, was the pain.

 

It was excruciating pain on his chest and he became aware that he was moaning and gasping, his fingers curling weakly in the sheets.

 

There was a warm body beside him, holding him up and whispering encouragements into his ear.

 

_Alexander._

 

“Alexander!” He gasped and a hand squeezed his uninjured shoulder, a soft voice echoing in his ear.

 

“I’m here.”

 

He stayed, all the way until the thread had been tied off and cut, and Catarina showed him how to properly wrap the bandage.

 

“How long has he been like this?” Ragnor asked quietly and Alec looked up from his wrapping to answer, “Three days.”

 

Magnus stared.

 

He had been out for three days?

 

He distinctly remembered Alec spooning soup into his mouth one time late at night, and soothing him back to sleep after he had awoken screaming. There were so many instances where he thought he had been either dreaming or dead.

 

But there was no pain in dreams or death.

 

“You didn’t leave.” He said dumbly and hazel eyes flicked up to his. A crease appeared between Alec’s brows and he wanted to touch it, to smooth it away.

 

It did not belong on his beautiful face.

 

“I wasn’t about to leave you behind. You were hurt.” The prince said matter of factly and Magnus faltered.

 

A thumb brushed across his cheek and Alec was standing up, reaching for the bowl that was sitting on the night stand.

 

Magnus saw then, as he turned his head towards him, the red stripes across his cheekbone where a wolf had caught him. As Alec knelt back down with the spoon in his hand, he laid his fingers against his cheek gently, willing the scratches to close.

 

“Magnus,” Alec’s voice was full of gentle reprimand as he moved to catch his wrist, blue sparks dissipating as he pulled away.

 

Ragnor and Catarina exchanged looks.

 

It was time for them to go.

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus healed slowly,far too slowly for his liking. Perhaps it was a residual effect of him expanding so much of his magic, or just the blood he lost.

 

Whatever the reason, he was bedridden for at least a week after his friends had left, too weak to do much other than sit up and sip his soup.

 

Alec took to sleeping in the chaise lounge at his side. He made Magnus his soup, and then porridge when his stomach was strong enough. He laid iced linens over Magnus’ forehead when a fever seized him and changed his bandages.

 

When the time came for the stitches to be removed, he did so carefully, so gently that Magnus felt nothing.

 

Something had definitely shifted between them ever since the incident.

 

Alec was soft and tender with him. His eyes held a note of fond reprimand whenever Magnus decided he wanted to test his limits, flexing his magic muscles. He was there to hold the water glass to his lips when Magnus was too weak to do it himself, soothing him when Magnus thrashed awake from nightmares filled with shadows and claws.

 

In return, Magnus opened himself up, allowing the prince to ask him curious questions, harmless ones at first before they progressed onto his past, a story that Magnus kept like a closely guarded secret.

 

“So you were cursed, ever since you were born?” Alec asked, his brows creasing as he stared at Magnus unabashedly.

 

They were curled up in bed together, the blanket drawn up over their bodies. Alec was shirtless and his hair was still slightly damp from his bath. Magnus’ eyes dropped and he shifted uncomfortably.

 

“Yes, my eyes made sure of that.” He answered, his gaze dipping to the crimson sheets. His fingers curled into fists as he said his next words, “and I brought the curse everywhere I went.”

 

Alec frowned and laid his hand over Magnus’ clenched fists, startling the other man into looking at him.

 

“How do you break it?” He wondered, rubbing his thumb idly against Magnus’ skin. Magnus shrugged, the words tasting bitter in his mouth.

 

“Love,” he said scornfully, ignoring Alec’s look of surprise. “If I can love and be loved in return, before the last petal falls, the curse will be broken.”

 

He cocked his head, studying Alec intently.

 

“The petals started falling the day I met you.” Alec sat up, his eyes widening.

 

“What does that mean?” He whispered, moving closer. Magnus met his gaze unwaveringly, withdrawing his hand sharply.

 

“Nothing. No one can love a monster.” He answered shortly, adamantly refusing to look him in the eye. Alec shifted forward, his hand moving to cup his cheek. His thumb brushed against the corner of Magnus’ lips gently before he spoke, so softly that Magnus barely heard him.

 

“ _You’re_ _not a monster.”_

 

Magnus rolled his eyes and flopped back, doing everything in his power to look unaffected by Alec’s casual gesture. He pulled the blanket over his bare chest, burying his face into the pillows. A hand slid into his hair, toying with the strands lazily.

 

“I know you care, no matter how hard you try to pretend,” Alec said, turning onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling for a long moment before tilting his head around to look at Magnus.

 

Magnus raised his eyebrows at him and snuggled deeper into his blankets. He refused to get his hopes up over nothing. Eventually Alexander would leave and he would be alone. He only stuck around because it was not as if he had a choice.

 

* * *

 

Winter turned to spring and finally, it was warm enough for Magnus to slip outside and hide away from Alec. The prince had not left him alone for all of winter, insisting on making sure he did not do anything too strenuous.

 

Apparently it was not easy to avoid him in spring either.

 

“Are you avoiding me?” Alec asked, his hand curling around Magnus’ arm to stop him from leaving.

 

He had gone down to the lake with a book, ready to settle down and read, (meaning: watch Magnus swim) but the prince had scrambled out of the water the moment their eyes made contact, hurriedly wrapping a towel around his body.

 

He had muttered an excuse under his breath and tried to get away but Alec had had enough of his skittish behavior.

 

“Magnus,” he tried again, when the prince did not respond. Magnus stiffened, his gaze falling to the grass beginning spring up all fresh and green.

 

“I’m not avoiding you,” he muttered and Alec raised his eyebrows.

 

“Really, because you seem to be running away everytime you see me. Am I really that ugly?” He joked and Magnus blurted out.

 

“No! You’re gorgeous!” His cheeks flushed red almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth and Alec stared.

 

In the time that he had known Magnus, he had never seen him embarassed or shy. Magnus was always bold and so sure of himself.But the man standing in front of him now was staring at the ground as if he was wishing it would swallow him up.

 

“Magnus, what’s wrong?” He brushed a hand against his cheek and Magnus jerked away, eyes flicking up to him panickedly.

 

* * *

 

Magnus did not know how to feel. He should have known that this would happen. Ever since he laid eyes on Alec, he had felt something stir.

 

Ignoring it did not seem to have helped and the incident with the wolves made things worst.

 

He was falling. Hard and fast for a prince that by all rights should resent him for taking him away from his family. Along with his rollercoaster ride of emotions, the rose petals were falling as well, slowly.

 

When he was unable to bear it any longer, he had turned to the Enchanted Mirror. Together with its powers of allowing its user to see anyone and anything in the world, the Mirror was also able to show you the one thing you desire most in the world.

 

Magnus had barely touched the mirror before it rippled to life, showing Alexander curled up under a tree by the lake with a book, white flowers dotting the grass around him.

 

The confirmation had scared him, so much so that he went great lengths to avoid him, hoping that with enough time, the tight feeling in his chest would ease.

 

No good could come from him falling in love with him. At best, Alec would love him back, for a few short months before changing his mind and at worst, he would reject him and Magnus would be Camille’s pet before his time was even up.

 

He thought he had done a good job at forcing his feelings down and boxing them away but with how Alec was looking at him, hazel eyes wide with curiosity, the sunlight shining into his dark hair, Magnus wanted to just lean up and kiss him.

 

He reined in his impulses, moving to take a step away from him.

 

“It’s nothing, nothing at all, Alexander,” he said, smiling as genuinely as he could. Alec frowned and Magnus’ hand twitched, itching to smooth out the skin between his brows.

 

“I know you’re lying,” Alec murmured, tucking a damp lock of Magnus’ hair behind his ear. The simple gesture made Magnus flush, dropping his gaze. He watched as Alec released his arm, smoothing back his hair a little more before he spoke, “but I won’t push you.”

 

Magnus floundered, nearly tripping over his own feet as Alec walked away from him to settle beneath the large tree he had become very fond of.

 

He felt as if he had to say something, but he did not know what.


	11. One More Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this isn't too confusing. I try to jump between POVs so that i can show their feelings better but this is mainly Magnus centric so I do try to put more of his POV? idk lemme know if yall like this. They may be slightly OOC but this is AU and I like having a more forward Alec so enjoy!

“You said you wouldn’t push me,” Magnus grumbled when Alec cornered him in the library a couple of weeks after the lake incident. He had stolen Alec’s favourite spot in the alcove, curled up in the golden sun with a jug of ice cold lemonade and a stack of books. 

Alec had found him an hour later, squishing him over to one side of the chaise. He was smiling as he settled onto his side of the chaise, the book of fairytales Magnus had gifted to him in his lap.

“You stole my spot,” he retorted and Magnus huffed, muttering something under his breath about it being _his_ castle. Alec was watching him, hazel eyes practically burning a hole in his skin as he turned a page in his book.

“Stop looking at me and read your book,” Magnus muttered. Alec was too close, his skin tingling when the prince leant over him, breath brushing against the back of his neck. Alec shrugged, draping himself over him.

 He _had_ said he would not push Magnus, but this tension between them was getting ridiculous. He could hear Magnus’ breath hitch when he moved closer until their thighs and shoulders were pressed together.

“Alexander-” Magnus made a strangled sound when Alec leaned even closer as if trying his boundaries. He jerked when he blew air playfully at his ear, nearly dropping his book.

“You feel something for me,” Alec murmured into his ear and he could feel his heart begin to race. His palms felt sweaty as he clutched at his book like a lifeline, his pulse roaring in his ears. Alec was still looking at him. His large hand covered his gently and Magnus flinched.

He had not felt like this since Camille and Camille… His mind would not even go there. Alec was not Camille. He was kind and gentle, tender and loving, everything that Camille was not by the end.

“For almost a century, I’ve closed myself off to feeling anything for anyone. Man or woman,” he started hesitantly and Alec moved closer, sliding an arm around his back. Magnus did not dare raise his eyes from his book as he continued, “you’ve unlocked something in me.”

Alec remained silent for a beat before he raised a hand to touch Magnus’ cheek.

“Are you going to act on it?” He whispered and Magnus turned just as he leant down. The look in his eyes was warm and hopeful as he thumbed over the corner of Magnus’ lips.

Magnus shivered when he moved closer, tilting his head up to meet him halfway.

Their lips closed together like two halves of a whole and Magnus dropped his book, fingers reaching to cradle Alec’s face as the prince kissed him senseless.

Magnus was breathless when Alec pulled away for air, his hand having migrated to Alec’s hair instead. He moved forward, chasing his lips as the prince laughed before indulging him again, the soft brush of his tongue against Magnus’ lips turning him to jelly.

He melted into him, revelling in the feeling of Alec’s arms around him, warm and safe. Time seemed to come to a stop as they sat there in the little alcove, kissing for what felt like forever, wrapped up in each other.

 

-

 

“Wow, um,” Alec mumbled against his lips, fingers curling into fists. Magnus smiled shyly and he dropped his head to lean his forehead against Magnus’, their noses touching.

He inhaled the heavy scent of sandalwood that always seemed to cling to Magnus and smiled back, pulling away to drop a kiss against Magnus’ nose.

Magnus cuddled up to him, arms wrapping around his abdomen in a hug.

“I should have done that a lot sooner,” he mumbled as he tucked his head into the crook of Alec’s neck. Alec smiled down at him, taking his hand. He entwined their fingers together and Magnus looked at him with such fondness in his eyes that his heart melted.

“Why didn’t you?” He asked, pressing a kiss to his hair tenderly. “Did you think I wouldn’t feel the same?”

Magnus shrugged, his fingers twitching on Alec’s hand. He hid his face into Alec’s neck and it tickled when he spoke, “something like that.” Alec smiled secretly to himself, squeezing his hand. He loved this side of Magnus. 

This vulnerability that showed that he was more than his curse, more than his magic, that he was as human as the rest of them even with the centuries etched into his eyes and the pain he hid behind sarcasm and satire humour.

Somewhere along the way, instead of him hating the man who had taken him from his family, Alec had fallen for him instead. Magnus was looking at him, fingers still loosely entangled with his. His gaze was soft and warm, and he had not stopped looking at Alec ever since he fell silent, lost in thought.

Alec ducked his head, his gaze drifting from Magnus’ face to his lips. The man seemed to notice what he was looking at, tilting his face upwards invitingly.

With his skin gleaming golden in the light of the setting sun, his cat eyes blinking slowly at him, Magnus was easily the most beautiful man Alec had ever seen. He brushed a thumb against his cheekbone, the words slipping out of him unconsciously.

“God, you’re so beautiful."

 

-

Magnus flushed.

No one had ever called him beautiful before. Not with his eyes and the darkness that clung to him. He had never felt _beautiful._ But Alec thought so. And he had said so, so brutally honest as if there was no doubt in his mind.

“No one has ever called me that before,” he mumbled and Alec frowned, a crease appearing in the middle of his forehead. Magnus reached up and pressed his fingers against it, grinning when it disappeared, replaced by a look of confusion.

“Well, you are. And I’ll keep telling you that,” he declared and Magnus’ heart squeezed. He was already so in love with this man. He threaded a hand through Alec’s dark hair, pulling him closer. 

“Thank you, Alexander,” he murmured before he kissed him again, chaste and sweet and Alec hummed against his lips, moving to wrap his arms around him.

Magnus had never felt safer than in Alec’s embrace, the warmth of his hard body pressed against him, cradling him to his chest. He remembered the winter’s chill biting through his clothes when Alec gathered him off the forest floor, holding him very much like he was doing now. He had felt so safe.

He never wanted the moment to end. If he could just live like this, forever enveloped by Alec’s arms, he would be happy. He _was_ happy.

For the first time in centuries, Magnus had a chance. A chance to be free of his godforsaken curse, a chance to walk in the outside world without the fear of bringing death and destruction in his wake.

 

* * *

  

Admitting that he had feelings for once, was probably one of the smartest things he had ever done because now, Magnus did not have to just watch as Alec shot arrow after arrow into targets while he closeted himself away in his study out of fear.

 He could touch. He could take Alec out to the lake where they would swim and then lie under the magnolia trees to dry in each other’s arms. They walked the wildflower fields and made out under the stars.

The starlight reflecting in Alec’s eyes as he pulled Magnus into a passionate kiss was something he would never forget. He felt as if his heart would burst from all the emotion that the prince was able to make him feel. 

Magnus could _feel._ And he let himself do it, instead of locking the emotion away out of fear of triggering the last part of his curse because he had his cure right there with him. He had no doubt that Alec could do it, even if he was not quite so in love with him yet.

He was so in love with him that it did not seem like the curse had any choice but to be broken. Alec could love him because he could see past the walls that Magnus erected, the masks that he wore to protect his heart and his life.

For the first time in so many years, Magnus was _happy._ He was elated and so so grateful that the universe had given him Alec, brought him to the castle that stormy night.

 

-

 

Alec knew. He was in love, possibly had been for some time.

It should have been impossible. He was technically a prisoner, in exchange for his sister’s freedom, but he was in love with Magnus.

Magnus, who was sarcastic and guarded, but also so selfless. He had locked himself away so that others would not suffer his curse, and Alec would never forget the look in his eyes the time that he had portaled out to the forest, using the magic he despised to save his life.

He did not hate his magic so much now, not when he could control it and bend it to his will. Alec loved him for it, for the hours he put into practising and honing the skill so that he would never harm anyone with it.

Alec wished he was as eloquent as his siblings because he wanted to tell him. It clawed at him like a very insistent cat but he held back. It was too soon. He did not want to push too far, too soon.

They had time, for now.

* * *

 

“Alexander, stop, stop!” Magnus gasped, pushing weakly at the prince’s chest. It was torture to push him away because he wanted Alec that close, he wanted Alec to kiss him like nothing in the world existed but him.

But he could tell that he was not ready. Wrapped in the haze of mixed up love and lust, he somehow managed to find the strength to keep Alec at an arms’ length away, staring down at him with lust filled eyes and kiss-swollen lips. 

Alec brought his knee up, by complete accident and Magnus moaned, loud and wanton. His pupils were blown wide as he gripped at Alec’s biceps, the prince leaning down to kiss him some more, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Alexander, _please!_ ” He gasped when his wrists were wrapped in a large hand, pinned above his head roughly. Alec’s eyes widened and he nearly tumbled off the bed in his haste to put some distance between the both of them.

Magnus lay there on his back, panting softly as he gazed at the young prince kneeling at his feet, running fingers through his hair and fretting worriedly.

“Did I… Did I hurt you?” His tongue slipped out and moistened his lips and he looked so earnest, so heartbreakingly _young_ that Magnus hastened to reassure him that _no,_ he was just overwhelmed. 

Alec kissed him again, slowly and hesitantly, as if he was afraid Magnus would push him away again. Magnus threaded his fingers through his curly hair, tilting his head up into the kiss. He could hear Alec’s breathing hitch and he smiled against his lips, pulling away to stroke a thumb along the corner of his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, watching the prince flush with a tender smile. Alec gazed at him as if he was his world, his gaze soft. He cupped Magnus’ cheek, stroking his skin gently.

“Says you,” he breathed, dipping his head to connect their lips again. Magnus felt his chest warm with emotion. He let Alec kiss him, the searing heat of passion melting away into something sweet and chaste.

 -

“I’m sorry,” Alec murmured when they were wrapped up in each other’s arms, Magnus practically half asleep. For the rest of the night they had exchanged kisses, soft and gentle, and Magnus had let him touch when he had asked, showed him what would feel good when they eventually would lay together.

He remembered the sounds that he had made before, wanton and unabashed, enough to make Alec’s cheeks flush at the memory and his trousers tighten. He wanted Magnus to make those sounds again.

Magnus blinked open one golden eye, looking at him with confusion. He drew him closer into his embrace, burying his face into the crook of Alec’s neck. Magnus liked being cuddled, and he liked the feeling of Alec’s long limbs wrapped around him like an octopus.

“What for, dearest?” His cheeks reddened at the endearment and he thanked God that the lights were dimmed. He turned to kiss him, Magnus snuggling closer.

“That I’m inexperienced and I pushed you?” He tried and Magnus cracked his other eye open, a crease forming in the centre of his forehead as he frowned. Alec watched as he moved as close as he could, snaking his arm around his shoulders.

“Alexander, I’ve only ever had one other lover. And she ruined me,” he said and Alec winced. He had not meant to bring that up. Magnus had told him bits and pieces, little anecdotes about his dalliance with Camille and he could tell how much it pained him to even speak her name. He had given her his heart and she stepped all over it. 

Alec wanted to tear her throat out when Magnus had told him, his eyes distant and far away as if that would lessen the pain. He would too if he ever met her. 

“You did not push me, Alexander. You stopped when I asked you to, which was more than she ever did for me,” Magnus murmured, stroking his cheek and Alec made a muffled sound, his face half hidden in the sheets. “Besides,” he said with a cheeky grin, “you’re a quick study.”

Alec groaned and swallowed his next words with a kiss before he could say them. Magnus was laughing against his lips as they pulled away, his golden eyes twinkling with mirth. He rubbed his thumb over his face and sighed contently, tugging Alec closer to him.

“Now go to sleep, angel.”

 

-

To say Magnus was surprised would be an understatement. He had not expected Alec to apologise. In fact, the young prince had apologised throughout the night, even when Magnus guided his hands over his body to teach him. 

Magnus was enamoured. He had never had anyone be so careful with him, so gentle. Alec had touched him with such reverence, his lip clamped between his teeth. He had been so earnest and eager to please that it was disconcerting.

He was used to pleasing, to give before he took. That was what Camille had ingrained in him the entire time they had been together. It had taken him centuries to break the habits.

And Alec had just wanted to please him. Magnus would be embarrassed by how loudly he had keened when Alec touched him just right, his hazel eyes glittering when he watched Magnus empty himself over his hand.

Magnus wanted more. He craved Alec’s presence, his taste and his touch. Alec was dangerously addictive and he needed him like he needed to breathe. He could only hope that he would not leave him broken like the last one did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can come and talk to me on tumblr, [snippets-of-imagination](https://snippets-of-imagination.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [@VOlympianlove](https://twitter.com/VOlympianlove). I’m still a newbie to the fandom and would love to just talk theories and stuff!


	12. Autumn Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter is mostly smut. Because I wanted to.
> 
> A/N: Oops, it's been a while. I've mostly been focusing on my book which is why I haven't been writing as much fanfiction. Or updating. At all. Also, school is kicking my butt, like usual.

His mind was a swirling maelstrom of thoughts and emotions as he stared out at the stormy sky. Autumn had fallen too quickly, the trees turning fiery red and orange as they shed their leaves in preparation for winter once more.

 

Alec found himself missing home, despite all of Magnus’ efforts to make the castle feel like his. He missed all their autumnal traditions, where Maryse would lead them all into the kitchen, throwing spices and apples into a gigantic pot to make mulled cider. Max would jump into the piles of leaves the gardeners raked up, scattering red and orange leaves into the air.

 

His mother would break out her autumn perfume of cinnamon and clove and they would gather by the fire to tell stories of their father along with warm milk stirred with a stick of cinnamon and snickerdoodles.

 

Magnus had tried to replicate the fireplace with his magic when he realised how much Alec missed home. He had lined the mantelpiece with garlands of cloves and huge maple leaves, baked cinnamon cookies and filled the air with potpourri that smelled of fall and home.

 

Alec appreciated the effort, but all that did was to make him miss home even more.

 

“Alexander,” Magnus was watching him from their bed, as Alec stood by the balcony, watching the wind toss the brightly coloured trees about. The room was warm and smelt of the cookies that Magnus had whipped up, topped with cinnamon sugar and white icing.

 

Alec hummed in response, not moving from his perch. Magnus had been lying naked in their bed for the past hour, trying to entice him into bed with both his body and the cookies he was nibbling on.

 

“Alexander, come to bed please,” Magnus murmured, putting the plate of cookies aside and Alec felt slightly guilty for ignoring him. He turned to the other man, his lips pressed together in a tight line. Magnus was looking up at him with a look of resignation etched onto his face and Alec wanted to climb into bed with him and pretend the world did not exist.

 

But if he did, he would forget about his family. Who was probably missing him, aching at the gaping hole that had been torn in the fabric of their world. Magnus was wonderful, truly, but he made Alec forget, that outside of the castle, where the Lightwoods ruled, there were responsibilities and the world did not stop turning.

 

“Alexander.” Warm arms wrapped around his waist and a chin rested against his shoulder, soft lips pressing a kiss against his skin. Alec sighed and made to untangle Magnus from him, but the prince held firm, turning the mirror he held in his hands so that the silver reflected Alec’s sorrowful eyes.

 

“What’s this?” He asked, taking the mirror. The bumps and ridges in the mirror’s filigree handle dug into his palm as he turned it in his hands.

 

“A looking glass,” Magnus mumbled into his shoulder, wrapping his hand around Alec’s. “Talk to it, tell it to show you something.”

 

Alec shot him a look but did as he was told.

 

“Show me Izzy and Jace.” The surface of the mirror rippled and he could see an image of a young woman lying in bed, her dark hair splayed out on the white pillow before it flickered and showed a man with blonde hair on a white horse riding through the forest.

 

Alec brushed his fingers over the mirrored surface, sorrow etched into his features.

 

“He’s looking for me,” he mumbled sadly and Magnus’ heart clenched.

-

He ought to let him go, go back to his family. But he was too selfish, too desperate for his curse to be broken that he could not bear the thought of losing Alec.

 

So he kept silent, allowing Alec to watch his siblings for as long as he pleased, warming him with his body as the storm raged on outside.

 

“Do you ever miss your parents?” Magnus had almost fallen asleep when Alec spoke again, caressing the mirror gently. The images in it had turned to silver and all he could see in it was his own reflection.

 

The prince turned, shifting in his arms. He blinked sleepily, his brain fuzzy. Alec was curled around him, one hand gripping the mirror and the other arm wrapped around him. He was staring at his reflection, stroking Magnus’ shoulder with his thumb.

 

Magnus relaxed against him, burrowing into his side for the fire had died and he was too sleepy to start it again.

 

“Always,” he murmured, blinking the sleep away from his eyes.

 

Alec turned to look down at him and he grumbled when he was shifted. A hand raked through his rumpled hair gently and he purred at the touch, nuzzling deeper into his warmth. Alec laughed at his clinginess, pulling him as close as he physically could and Magnus tilted his head up for a kiss.

 

“Alexander,” he murmured in warning when the prince deepened the kiss, tongue swiping over his lower lip. He let him in, hands shifting to cradle Alec’s face as teeth tugged lightly on his lip. Alec was half draped over him, humming in approval as he licked into his mouth.

 

Magnus could feel himself stiffening under the sheets, and when Alec hooked a leg over his, straddling him, he released a low moan. Pulling away, he looked up at warm hazel eyes and smiled, rocking his hips up lightly.

 

“May I-” Alec asked shyly and Magnus tugged the blankets off in response. He _felt_ beautiful, as Alec’s eyes traced his naked body with such reverence and amazement. They had seen each other naked plenty of times, shared handjobs in the bathtub and in bed but Alexander still managed to make him feel as if it was their first time every time.

 

-

 

Alec reached out a hand and Magnus’ hips jerked in anticipation. He was disappointed, however, when the hand landed on his thigh, dragging up the sensitive skin slowly. He shuddered at his touch, whining when it veered away from the area he needed to be touched the most.

 

“You tease, Alexander,” he murmured and a devious smirk curled on the prince’s lips. Magnus had no time to process what was happening before Alec was thumbing at his nipples, already sensitive from the cold air. He arched with a startled cry, eyes widening as Alec ducked down to mouth at one, teeth tugging gently on skin.

 

His mouth was hot on his cold skin, rapidly heating up as Alec moved to the other nipple, swirling his tongue over the hardened nub lazily. Magnus whimpered, fingers threading into the prince’ hair and tugging. He shuddered as Alec bit him lightly, soothing over the bite mark before kissing up his chest to mouth at the skin on the juncture of his neck. He tugged at curly dark hair once before large hands wrapped around his wrists, pinning them above his head.

 

Magnus flexed his fingers, gasping when Alec pushed back on instinct, pressing him back into the mattress. He could feel his hardness against his thigh, his eyes blown wide as Alec mouthed at his neck, sucking a bruise into golden skin.

 

The room grew warmer as the prince rubbed their bodies together, the contact causing an explosion of pleasure to rocket through him. Magnus threw back his head, breath hitching when Alec bit down on a sensitive spot just beneath his ear.

 

It was sweet sweet torture, the way he clamped his teeth down on a patch of skin, sending pinpricks of pain that went straight to Magnus’ groin. The wet heat of his tongue soothe over the bite mark and Magnus was keening, straining against the hands that held him down. He was a quivering mess by the time Alec was done with him, his neck covering in purpling marks.

 

Magnus bucked, and Alec startled, using his knee to nudge his legs apart. Magnus licked his dry lips, his eyes rolling back when he rubbed his knee against his member just on the right side of pain.

 

“Alexander!” He gasped when Alec wrapped his free hand around his length, stroking it gently. He tugged lightly at the foreskin and Magnus was moaning, loud and wanton. “Oh, god!”

 

-

 

Alec wondered if Magnus regretted teaching him his ways now, as he squeezed him, just hard enough for his eyes to roll back and his breathing stuttered. He smirked, running his fingers on the underside of Magnus’ balls, pinching the skin gently.

 

Magnus’ eyes widened and he arched back, crying out in surprise. He could feel his wrists straining beneath his fingers and it was incredibly hot to see such a powerful man allow him to hold him down.

 

“P…Please,” he gasped and Alec resumed his pace, just fast enough that Magnus was panting, his fingers curling into fists as he bucked up to meet his hand. He scraped a fingernail along the underside of his length just to see his mouth fall open, sweat glistening on his gorgeous body.

 

Alec bent his head over Magnus’ chest, attaching his lips to his nipple and sucked hard. Magnus choked on a breath, a strangled sound emitting from his mouth. His cheeks were flushed as Alec worked him over, his hips jerking in time to his strokes.

 

“Y…You- ah! Fuck!” Magnus cried out when Alec rubbed his thumb over the crown of his member, his nail digging slightly into the slit. It had to hurt but Magnus was moaning, his head thrown back as his balls drew up against his body.

 

His breathing stuttered and Alec could tell that he was close. The prince pulled away from his body, a smirk curling at his lips as he wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing hard.

 

Magnus arched back, a sob spilling from his lips when it staved off his oncoming orgasm. He was trembling, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he tried to stifle his urge to beg. Alec thought he looked absolutely _beautiful_ like that, hair mussed and sweaty. His body was flushed, a low whine ripping from his throat when Alec stopped moving, his fingers clenched like a vice around his cock.

 

“I-I was close, so close,” he gasped and Alec smiled back at him, cocking his head.

 

“I know,” he replied with a smirk and Magnus’ eyes slid shut as he tried to rut his hips up to get the friction he needed. Alec squeezed his legs together, keeping Magnus’ thighs pinned. Magnus whined at him, trying to writhe beneath him. His fingers were flexing again, testing Alec’s grip.

 

“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, and Magnus groaned at his tone, heat pooling in his stomach. Alec had learnt early that his “prince” tone turned his partner on like nothing else and he used it to his advantage.

 

“Uh- come! Please! I need- need to come!” Magnus whimpered when he twisted his wrist, hand sliding along his length slowly, so slowly that he had to be going insane. Alec raised his eyebrows and Magnus gasped when the skin between his balls was pinched, just hard enough to send pleasure shooting through his body.

 

“A…Alexander, _please!_ ” Alec dipped his head, swallowing the rest of Magnus’ moans as he flicked his wrist, working him over and over until Magnus was crying out, babbling and pleading as he drew closer and closer to the precipice.

 

“Alexander!” He sobbed, throwing his head back as Alec squeezed his fingers around his wrists and then he was seeing stars, his pleasure exploding through him like a supernova.

 

Alec milked him through it, wringing out every last drop of his orgasm until he was bucking and writhing from the overstimulation. Only then did he release him, Magnus too wrung out to even move his hands.

 

“Was that... good?” He asked, teeth clenching down on his lower lip nervously and Magnus was gaping up at him, eyes wide in disbelief.

 

“Good? Alexander, I’m not sure I even have words,” Alec smiled, reaching to cup Magnus’ cheek with his unsoiled hand, thumb rubbing over his cheekbone.

 

-

 

Magnus shifted, snapping his fingers sharply and the mess on his stomach and sheets vanished. Alec’s hand was also clean, though he was still hard, precum dripping from his cock.

 

“Do you want me to?” He gestured weakly at Alec’s hard cock and the prince shook his head, moving to grasp him in hand. Magnus gasped, the stimulation still too soon after his orgasm. His eyes were wide as he watched Alec pump him slowly, his back arching off the mattress with a rumbling moan.

 

He did not think he had ever gotten hard again so soon before but Alec worked him lightly, as if afraid to hurt him. Magnus clutched at the sheets, gasping when Alec rolled his balls between his fingers delicately, massaging them.

 

“Alexander, are you- “ Alec flipped them around, cutting off his question with a heated kiss. His hazel eyes were blown with lust as he gave him one last stroke, dropping his hand onto the sheets.

 

“I want you to make love to me,” Magnus’ breathing stuttered at that proclamation, laying his hands gently upon Alec’s chest. He stared at the prince for a long moment, listening to the way his heart pulsed steadily beneath his fingertips.

 

“Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can send me prompts or just talk to me on tumblr, [snippets-of-imagination](https://snippets-of-imagination.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [@VOlympianlove](https://twitter.com/VOlympianlove). I actually am pretty active on tumblr, believe it or not even when i've disappeared off here. So come say hi!


	13. Snowfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andddd I'm back. Hopefully. I know there were a lot of people waiting on this story and I'm back. Not sure how long it will take for me to finish this but IT WILL BE FINISHED GODDAMNIT. Anyway, thanks for being patient and please leave any constructive criticism in the comments, thank you!

Snow fell in sheets, blanketing the world in white as it blurred out the sky. The wind roared, a frightening parallel to their first winter together, when they fought back to back against shadow wolves that threatened to devour them.

 

But instead of wolves, this time it carried the promise of home.

 

As if the universe was playing a cruel joke on them, the fog around the forest lifted, and someone dear found their way to the castle.

 

Magnus was curled up in Alec’s lap, in the alcove of the library with a book in his hands and Alec’s body warming him when he felt a sense of dread coil through him, seemingly unannounced.

 

He had become ever more in tune with the magic surrounding his castle as more petals fell from the rose, and his birthday began creeping ever closer. Still, he tried to ignore it, hoping to pass it off as something minor.

 

The gates rattled violently beneath them and Alec shifted, eyes fluttering open. He glanced down at Magnus lying in his lap, smoothed a hand over his hair and was preparing to go back to dozing when the gates rattled again.

 

“Are we supposed to be able to hear the gates this far away?” He asked in surprise, Magnus stirring. He sat up, discarding his book. Amber eyes slid close and a curling wisp of magic told him that there was someone pounding at their door, the snow curling in his hair.

 

“There is a man at our door.” He frowned and slipped off Alec’s lap reluctantly, the other man mourning the loss of warmth. “You stay, I’ll go have a look.”

 

Alec nodded, accepting the kiss Magnus pressed to his lips. He curled back onto the couch, drawing the blanket back over him, content to doze a little more.

 

Magnus made his way downstairs with a frown on his face.

 

No one had found his castle ever since the princess Isabelle had left and Ragnor and Catarina would not be able to make it out in this weather, so it had to be a stranger at his door. He hoped for their sake that it would not take long as he was already sorely missing Alec’s presence.

 

There were two heavy knocks on the heavy doors before they were pushed open, the figure of a man stumbling in.

 

“Alec? Alec!”

 

“Hello?” Magnus ventured, walking down the stairs slowly.The lamps in the Great Hall flared to life with every step he took and by the time Magnus had arrived at the base of the steps, he could see the man clearly.

 

He was about Alec’s age, his blonde hair white with snow. He was handsome, Magnus supposed, with strange bicoloured eyes and a strong jaw. Those eyes were glaring at him with such intensity that Magnus felt a stir of unease.

 

“ _You.”_

 

He was not expecting the sword that sliced through the air,barely missing him as he leapt back, a cry of alarm ripping from his throat.

 

He fell against the bannister, a spike of pain shooting straight up his side. Eyes wide, he rose to his feet, magic gathering in his palms as the man advanced on him.

 

“Where is he? Where is Alec? What have you done to him?!” The man roared as he advanced, grief and fury colouring his features. He swung his sword and Magnus darted out of the way, his magic shooting from his fingertips.

 

“I- He’s fine! Stop swinging at me!” He yelped when the man lunged again, his sword managing to slice through his shirt and his shoulder.

 

Blood seeped from the cut and into the fabric of his shirt, the man swinging once more. Magnus swore loudly when he tripped on the carpet and a hand seized him by the hair, yanking him back against a hard firm chest.

 

His breath caught when his assailant laid the flat of his sword against his throat, growling into his ear.

 

“Bring me to him.”

 

Before Magnus could speak, Alec appeared at the top of the stairs, his eyes wide with shock.

 

“Jace?”

 

The blonde man’s head whipped up and the grief in his eyes vanished.

 

“Alec!” Magnus cursed under his breath when he was shoved roughly aside, Jace running to meet his brother in a hug.

 

-

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“Alec, you have to come home. It’s Izzy. She’s dying, Mom said she’s dying. She never recovered when you didn’t come home. You have to come home.” At the mention of his sister, Alec’s face paled and he shot Magnus a pained look.

 

Magnus felt his heart sink.

 

His birthday was only days away, and he was sure,so sure that Alec could break his spell.

 

“Go,” he said, before Alec could protest, fingers curling into fists inside his pockets. “Your family needs you.”

 

Jace glowered at him, bicoloured eyes dark with distaste. He was still gripping the hilt of his sword in one hand, though the blade was sheathed at his hip. Magnus ignored the insinuation that they had needed Alec even before Isabelle had fallen sick and snapped his fingers.

 

The other half of his pair of enchanted mirrors materialized midair and he pushed it into Alec’s hand, folding his long fingers around the handle. Jace flinched at the display of magic and he backed away slightly. Alec’s lips were pulled tight, his jaw set as he stared at it, thumbing over the ornate handle pensively.

 

“You need to go,” Magnus murmured, grabbing his shoulder and pushing him towards the door. He snapped his fingers again and a heavy cloak appeared in his hand, which he draped over the prince. His heart was heavy as he pulled open the oak door, white flakes of snow dusting over the floor as he did so.

 

“Magnus…” His chest was tight with emotion as he turned to face him, hating the feeling of doubt that crawled into his heart as he cupped Alec’s cheek. Alec was staring at him with those hazel eyes that he had fallen in love with ever since he saw them, so full of sorrow that Magnus’ heart clenched.

 

“Just… Just come back to me, alright?” He whispered, the plea in his voice barely audible as the snow swirled around them, turning the world into a blur of white. Alec wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him closer as his other hand still holding the mirror rested behind Magnus’ neck.

 

“I will, I promise.” Magnus clutched at his cloak, wishing desperately he was selfish enough to beg Alec to stay. Alec’s lips tasted of snow and desperation when he kissed him, the rest of the world seeming to slow to a stop for this moment. He wanted to bottle it and keep it close forever.

 

“When the shine of the mirror dulls, it will be too late,” he whispered, the words for Alec’s ears only as he pulled away, fingers curling into the prince’s hair. He wanted him to stay, and never leave, but Alec would resent him for it and he could not have that.

 

Alec stared at him with his eyes wide. His lips parted and Magnus was sure he knew what he was talking about. It made pushing him away all the more painful when he was so close, _so close_ to being free.

 

“I love you, Alexander,” he said softly, and with a clatter of hooves, Jace appeared in the doorway, sitting astride his white horse. His face was a mask of concern as Alec withdrew his hand from Magnus’, his heart beating strangely in his chest as he turned away, torn between his family and _this._

 

“I…” he breathed and Magnus held up his hand. He brushed a kiss over the knuckles of Alec’s hand and nudged him towards his brother firmly, barely managing to hide the devastation in his eyes.

 

“Just come back to me,” he said above the howling wind and something in the prince’s eyes flashed. Alec nodded, squeezing his hand gently before he was putting his toe in the stirrup, swinging into the saddle behind Jace.

 

Magnus watched them ride away, the white horse kicking up snow in its wake until they were out of sight. He could only hope and pray to gods that he refused to believe in that Alec would keep his promise.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can come and talk to me on tumblr, [snippets-of-imagination](https://snippets-of-imagination.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [@VOlympianlove](https://twitter.com/VOlympianlove). I’m a newbie to the fandom and would love to just talk theories and stuff!


	14. Mirror's Twin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a second chapter to make up for lost time! I'm already working on the next chapter, hopefully, it can be up soon!

 

 

“I told you they were all unreliable,” the voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Chills rippled down his spine as his knuckles turned white around the mug handle. He knew that voice.

 

For every day that Alexander had been away, Magnus faded a little more. He had kept away from his own silver mirror, trusting in his heart that his lover would return.

 

The winter was coming to pass and spring was taking its place. Birds were returning from their migrations, filling the air with their cheerful songs as they fluttered about. His roses were already blooming, all of them as red as blood, the bushes so dense with flowers that their fragrance was almost overwhelming.

 

Still, there was no sign of Alexander.

 

Magnus was standing in the middle of the rose garden, one hand curled around his magic mirror and the other around his mug of chocolate. He kept his back turned to Camille, his back ramrod straight as he listened to the petals and leaves crunching beneath her heels.

 

“He will come back,” he muttered, even when the enchantress touched his shoulder. He kept his head down, refusing to meet her gaze. Her eyes burned into him and the heavy, sickly scent of roses reminded him of the dying rose in his study, a single petal clinging to life.

 

“You’re out of time, Magnus,” Camille’s voice was as sweet as ever, her nails digging into his flesh through his shirt. He tensed when she wrapped a hand around his mirror, raising it up to his face.

 

Try as he might, Magnus could not look away as an image swirled to life in the silver surface.

 

His heart twinged with guilt when he saw Alec hunched over a young woman, his hair still dotted with white flakes. Isabelle was opening her eyes, relief filling her face when she saw her brother kneeling before her.

 

“I’ll never leave you again,” it was Alec’s voice, with the same conviction that had promised him that he would come back, that he would be the one to break Magnus’ curse. “No one will ever be able to take me away.”

 

Magnus’ heart shattered in that instance, as he stared at the man who had taken his love and crushed it between his fingertips. The man who had been so kind and so cruel, because he had given him a gift. He had given him hope.

 

The pain that flooded his chest was no ordinary pain. He did not have to see the rose beneath the bell jar to know that the last petal had fallen.

 

“I…I don’t understand,” he whispered, “he said he would return.”

 

His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the ground, still clutching the silver mirror.

 

Camille was laughing, the sound ringing painfully in his ears.She was saying something, something about royalty being fickle but he would not hear it.

 

Alexander would come for him. He was sure.

 

He clutched his mirror closed, fingers curling around the silver bench close by.

 

“Alexander will return,” he gasped, even as his vision blurred, “he will come back. He promised he would.”

 

Camille’s eyes glittered with mirth when she tilted his chin up to face her. She was mocking him, turning her head to survey the garden, empty of anyone else other than the soft chirping of returning birds.

 

“Then where is he?”

 

Magnus jerked away, swearing when the motion made his head throb.

 

“He will come.”

 

“He lied, Magnus. That’s what royalty does. His sister is far more important to him than you are. Why would he return for a man who is cursed to die?”

 

Magnus wished she would stop talking. His breathing was coming in short pants, the sickly sweet scent of roses making his stomach turn.

 

“Sleep,” it was a command and one he was powerless to ignore as her magic rolled over him, darkness enveloping his every sense.

 

* * *

 

Alec knew something was wrong that morning when he stepped into his bedchambers.

 

The snow had already waned and the trees were turning green again. Sunlight streamed in through his open window, reflecting off something silvery on his table.

 

Alec walked over to it, unable to shake the suddenly cold feeling he felt in his heart.

 

He should be elated.

 

Isabelle was recovering well, and quickly every day and the whole family was together again.

 

Spring had come with no delays and the gardens were beginning to bloom with colour.

 

But something felt off, something he could not put his finger on.

 

He picked up the carved hand mirror, the metal cold against his skin. He had not had the time to check on Magnus in a while.

 

But the prince never left his thoughts.

 

When he lay in bed at night after a whole day of entertaining his sister or helping his mother to run the kingdom, he thought of nothing more than the moments he had spent with Magnus, in his bed just lounging, or in the library reading.

 

He missed him so fiercely that there were days where he thought he should burst from the longing.

 

But the time was not right.

 

His family still needed him.

 

Slowly he lifted the mirror, his blood running cold when he saw it.

 

The usual shimmer of the mirror was dull, frosted over and there was rust creeping in on the edges.

 

“Show me Magnus Bane,” he said urgently, the horrible feeling in his gut growing ever stronger.

 

_When the shine of the mirror dulls, it will be too late._

 

The mirror rippled, jerkily as if the magic imbued within it was already fading.

 

But an image formed, of a young man curled up on a bed of rose petals the colour of blood beside a silver bench.

 

He could see a silver mirror, the twin to the one he held, cradled to his chest.

 

“Magnus!”

 

-

 

He made it out of the castle in record time, throwing on a heavy cloak, shoving his feet into boots.

 

There was barely any time to give his family a proper explanation and he hoped the note he left would suffice for now.

 

Valiant was raring to go when he led him out of the stable, tacking up so quickly that he nearly forgot to check the girth.

 

The world blurred around him as Valiant broke into a canter, heavy hooves thudding against the paving stones.

 

Storm clouds gathered in the sky as they galloped towards the forest, dark and ominous. The sky turned black as they crossed the tree line and rain began to patter onto the leaves above.

 

Wind whipped his cloak about and Alec had to duck multiple times to avoid being struck by loose branches or vines.

 

Valiant’s hooves kicked up mud as they sloshed through the forest, raindrops coming down harder and harder, until the world was merely a blur of water and wind.

 

The roar was deafening as sheets of water crashed down upon them, like waves on a seashore.

 

He snorted, wiping rainwater out of his eyes as Valiant leapt over a fallen log, mud splattering all over him.

 

It was as if the forest was determined to keep him from reaching his love in time.

 

Valiant screamed when a shaft of lightning struck a tree before them, leaping sideways and Alec barely managed to hang on.

 

He turned them down the fork, ignoring the burning tree. Rain lashed at his eyes, like multiple whips, falling so heavily that they hurt.

 

The cold bit at his bones and it was relief that he felt when he saw the tall iron gates looming in the distance.

 

“Come on, boy, a little further now,” he murmured, leaning in close.

 

Valiant’s strides lengthened and soon they were passing another treeline and across the heavy iron gates.

 

Everything went still.

 

The storm stopped, so suddenly that the silence was eerie.

 

His horse slowed enough that Alec could leap off, throw his heavy, soaked cloak across the saddle and run.

 

Straight for the rose gardens that Magnus loved so much.

 

The ground was covered with rose petals, red and white mingling with each other. It was a beautiful sight, but not the sight Alec was looking for.

 

“Magnus?” Alec looked around him frantically, pulling the mirror from his pocket.

 

The mirror had frozen upon the image of Magnus.

 

He had to be around here somewhere.

 

“Magnus, I’m here!”

 

Alec turned and ran for the castle. Perhaps Magnus was inside? His heart was pounding wildly, swearing when he slipped, the stairs slippery beneath his wet boots.

 

“Magnus? Magnus, where are you?”

 

He had never run so fast in his life. He searched the library, his old room, the kitchens but there was no Magnus.

 

The study was the last place he searched and chills skittered down his spine when he saw the rose.

 

It was still in place, the stalk withered and bare. Petals littered the table beneath it, curled and black with death.

 

Magnus was out of time.

 

Desperation clawed at his chest as he stumbled out of the study, numb with terror.

 

“Magnus! I’m here! Where are you?”

 

The sunlight was too bright when he bolted back out and he pushed his damp hair out of his eyes impatiently.

 

A familiar figure caught his eye and hope reignited within him.

 

“Ragnor! Where’s Magnus?” He stumbled, nearly falling over in his haste to get to Ragnor and Catarina, whom he could see as he got closer.

 

“You’re too late.”

 

The statement sent cold water washing all over him.

 

“That can’t be. I…I promised. I promised I would set him free!” He squeezed his hands into fists, the carvings in the handle cutting into his palm.

 

Catarina took his wrist, her expression full of sorrow.

 

“She took him to her castle, across the Wastelands.”

 

The Wastelands.

 

Alec knew of the Wastelands. Legends said that it was a white stretch of ice that went on forever, with nothing on the other side. Some said that trolls lived there, others said vampires.

 

There were all sorts of stories on the Wastelands but no one knew for sure what was on the other side, if there was even something on the other side.

 

Fear crept into his heart, the fear of the unknown terrified him. But Alec knew he had to try.

 

He had made a promise and to him, that was binding.

 

“Do you know the way?” He asked, curling his fingers around his mirror. Already, back in the castle’s presence, the cloud that covered the mirror’s surface was fading, returning to its original sheen.

 

“If you wish to go, I can only show you to an old woman who may know the way. The journey will be long, and arduous. And you may still lose him.”

 

Alec’s heart stuttered at the thought of undertaking such a journey and still be unable to guarantee Magnus’ fate. He shook his head, holding out his mirror.

 

“Show me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can come and talk to me on tumblr, [snippets-of-imagination](https://snippets-of-imagination.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [@VOlympianlove](https://twitter.com/VOlympianlove). I’m a newbie to the fandom and would love to just talk theories and stuff!


	15. Journey

 

 

It was freezing in the stone castle. Magnus could not remember a single time where he had been so cold.

 

He shivered everywhere he went. Or should he say, everywhere he was allowed to go. There was not much to do in the castle, with Camille’s minions monitoring his every waking hour.

 

Mostly, Magnus spent his time either in bed or up on the terrace, where the wind blew the hardest, strong enough to knock him off his feet. Even wrapped up in his warmest cloak, the cold bit through to his bones.

 

It hurt, with every breath he took, the wind rattling through his chest. His memories were fuzzy and he woke up each day with a throbbing headache.

 

Camille came to him each night, with her painted smile and signature crimson dress. Her sickly perfume made his mind blur even more until his vision went black and he woke up each morning with no memory of what happened the night before.

 

His meals were brought to him wherever he went, often cold from the wind before they reached him.

 

Night and day blurred into one and Magnus no longer counted them. This was his eternity now, surviving each day in a meaningless fog.

 

He no longer remembered the man he used to love, no longer remembered the prince he used to be. Camille’s magic had sucked him hollow, leaving him a shell of the man he used to be.

 

* * *

 

 

The wind was howling, swinging branches snatching at his cloak as Valiant galloped through the woods, hooves thudding on the damp earth. His fingers were cramping from holding the reins so tightly and his back twinged with pain as he crouched low to avoid the branches.

 

Ragnor had pointed him in the direction of the old woman who would direct him towards the Wastelands but they had gotten sidetracked by a massive tree trunk lying their path.

 

Alec could only pray that they were still on the right path. Every second he wasted was a second longer that Magnus had to spend with Camille.

 

The thought of that conniving witch having Magnus in her clutches was enough for the anger to begin bubbling up. She had tricked them, and Magnus. She gave him hope and then tore it away.

 

Alec did not want to imagine how crushed Magnus must have felt when she appeared to take him, spilling her lies and poisoning his heart. He could only pray that Magnus loved him enough to wait for him.

 

He was going cut her throat first and ask questions later. Alec gritted his teeth as he ducked again, barely missing a low hanging branch.

 

Rain was lashing through the trees, icy cold and wet seeping through his clothes and into his bones. He wound his fingers into Valiant’s mane and held on tight as the stallion leapt over a trunk toppled in their path and snorted, his stride slowing.

 

Alec narrowed his eyes and through the blur of the rain, he could make out the shape of a tiny cottage tucked up against a grove of willow trees. The trees trailed long branches along the ground, whipped around by the wind.

 

Valiant cantered up to the door and Alec dismounted, crouching to knock gently on the tiny door. He could hear voices speaking behind the wood but as the loud knocks rang out, the voices fell silent and the door creaked open.

 

“Hi- oh,” Alec stared in disappointment. The woman who stood in the crack of the door was neither old nor did she look wise. She had a pale young face and lovely green eyes.

 

Alec was about to apologize for bothering them and ask for further directions when the woman spoke.

 

“Are you Alexander?” She asked tersely and at his astonished nod, opened the door slightly wider. “Come in.”

 

Alec had to stoop to enter the cottage and to his surprise, found that the inside was much larger than it appeared. As if she had read his mind, the woman said, “don’t always judge books by their covers, my prince.”

 

A fire crackled merrily away in the fireplace and at his entrance, a young lady turned from her spot by the fire. She had the same entrancing green eyes and as the woman lit another lamp, Alec saw that they had the same fiery coloured hair.

 

“I’m... I’m looking to cross the Wastelands,” he began, tugging on the strap of his satchel nervously. The woman did not even look up from the pot she had moved to stir as she replied, “we know.”

 

Alec stared and the girl sitting by the fire grinned lightly at him. “Well I did, and then I told her,” she said, setting down her paintbrush.

 

As Alec watched, the bowl of apples she had painted melted out of the canvas as if by magic and then she was holding a bowl of apples. His jaw dropped in amazement.

 

“Want one?” She tossed him a green apple and he was so startled that only his quick reflexes stopped the fruit from hitting the ground.

 

“Clary, we do not throw fruit at the guest,” her mother reprimanded gently, though her lips were pulled up into a smile.

 

The girl, Clary, grinned and waved a hand at Alec, gesturing for him to sit.

 

“No one has wanted to cross the Wastelands ever since the castle disappeared. What makes you so special?” The woman asked, her tone stiff as she set out bowls and plates.

 

“I… I made a promise?” The end of his statement went up as if it were a question and the woman raised her eyebrows. Alec shifted, suddenly feeling cramped and uncomfortable.

 

“One does not usually wish to cross the Wastelands on a promise.”

 

“This is different.”

 

Alec replied firmly, eyes narrowing and the girl laughed, startling him.

 

“I like him, Mom.”

 

The woman deflated at the look on her daughter’s face.

 

“Camille is far more powerful than you are, what makes you think you can outwit her?”

 

“I can’t,” he confessed, “I don’t even know the way to her castle.”

 

The eyebrows went up and Alec felt his cheeks flush. He _hated_ asking for help and this woman had been sizing him up from the moment he set foot inside the cottage.

 

“Well, then,” she spooned stew into the wooden bowls without even looking in his direction, “it seems as if we have nothing left to discuss.”

 

“Mom,” Clary spoke, her eyes narrowed. With her paintbrush still in her hand, she had risen from her seat, dripping green paint all over the floor.

 

The woman glanced up and sighed when she saw the mess.

 

“If you have something dear to you, something you cannot part with. Give us that and go fetch water from the well. We do not give advice without payment.”

 

Alec stared. He had rushed from his home that morning and had brought nothing of value with him. No gold, no jewellery. But he doubted that was what the woman was after anyway.

 

Something he could not part with. He had nothing on him of value, except…

 

As if she had thought of the answer before he did, the woman’s gaze fell upon on the silver mirror at his hip the same moment his fingers wrapped around it.

 

Slowly, Alec withdrew the magic mirror.

 

It was the only gift Magnus had given him before he had left, and his only connection to his prince. He loathed to give it up.

 

But he was sure he no longer needed it.

 

The mirror was fogged over and its edges were tinged with red rust, the image of the cottage frozen in its centre.

 

He set it on the table and the woman took it.

 

“The well is out back.”

 

It was not a hard walk, even with the heavy bucket and the food was already ready by the time he got back, with a bowl of sliced apples along with the stew.

 

Alec stirred his stew restlessly. It smelled absolutely divine and his stomach growled. The honeyed rolls he had eaten before he left were a long distant memory, but he was still too antsy to focus on the food.

 

“You’ve taken my payment, now how do I get to Camille’s castle?” He asked, too impatient to eat much.

 

“You won’t reach it on your horse,” Clary spoke up, her brow furrowed. Her paintbrush was tucked behind her ear, long red hair curled neatly around it. There was still green paint flecked across the brush hairs, speckling her head.

 

“Can’t we lend him Simon, mom?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can send me prompts or just talk to me on tumblr, [snippets-of-imagination](https://snippets-of-imagination.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [@VOlympianlove](https://twitter.com/VOlympianlove). I actually am pretty active on tumblr, believe it or not even when i've disappeared off here. So come say hi!


	16. The North Wind

Simon turned out to be a polar bear twice the size of Alec’s horse. Valiant had spooked at the sight of the bear lumbering out of the surrounding forest, yawning and growling.

 

Clary had given him her magic paintbrush, insisting that he would need it in order to win Magnus back, even when Alec tried to decline. He did not see how a magic paintbrush could help him save Magnus but accepted it at Clary’s insistence.

 

Jocelyn, her mother, had wordlessly packed dried meats and fish into a saddle bag so big that Alec did not think he would be able to carry it.

 

“Remember, Camille may be a conniving bitch. But she is still part human and susceptible to human temptations,” she said as she slung the bag over Simon’s shoulders. Alec nodded, carefully tucking a rolled up parchment into Valiant’s saddlebag, which was noticeably smaller than that of Simon’s.

 

The Fairchilds would send Valiant back home with a far more detailed note that he had written to reassure his family that he was safe and well, and Alec would continue the rest of his journey aboard Simon the polar bear.

 

They had warned Alec that Simon could carry him only as far as the Ravine, about three-quarters of the way there.

 

Once there, Alec would have to make his own way to the stone castle which should be visible from the Ravine.

 

The castle was indeed visible from the Ravine.

 

In fact, it was almost directly across where Simon dropped him off. The Ravine was a chasm that stretched between one cliff and the other, the walls of the cliffs going straight down into a rushing river that ran off a waterfall.

 

The waterfall was so loud that Alec had to yell to be heard over the sound of the water.

 

“How am I supposed to get across?”

 

Simon the polar bear merely roared back, sitting straight down on his furry butt to watch Alec pace the edge of the cliff. He nosed at Alec’s pocket occasionally, where the paintbrush resided, as the prince walked right up to the edge of the cliff, peering down at the rushing water.

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

 

The voice startled Alec so much that he very nearly fell over the edge, had Simon not caught the edge of his clock in his mouth, tugging him back.

 

Alec turned to look at Simon.

 

“Did you speak?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at the polar bear.

 

As if he felt completely ridiculed by that idea, Simon rolled his eyes, letting the edge of the prince’s cloak fall from his mouth, glowering at him.

 

There was no one in sight, no sound other than the rushing water.

 

Alec walked up to the edge of the ravine again, his heart stuttering in his chest as he knelt.

 

“Hello?”

 

He called down to the water, feeling incredibly stupid as he did so.

 

“Up here,” his fingers scrabbled in the ice as he turned his head to look into the sky, where he was sure where the voice had come from.

 

There was nothing there.

 

Alec gawked at the empty air, turning around to stare all around him. A gust of wind brushed against his cheek and he heard the voice again.

 

“Here.”

 

It was a female voice, gentle and curling. The wind swept around him, ruffling his cloak and Alec thought he saw the vague shape of a woman flit past, a cold breeze on his shoulder the only indication of her presence.

 

“Who are you?” He called as the wind blew into the air, settling into a faint shimmering figure.

 

“The North Wind,” she blustered into his ear and Alec screwed up his eyes. She was so cold.

 

“You wish to pass the Ravine.”

 

It was more of a statement than a question. Though he could not fully see her, Alec could feeling eyes burning into his as he bowed his head in answer.

 

“What business do you have with the Immortal Queen?” It sounded as if the wind was musing. A gust brushed beneath his chin and the prince looked up, setting his jaw.

 

“I’m rescuing my lover.”

 

The words came easily. His fingers brushed against the paintbrush in his pocket and he straightened as the wind blew away, still surveying him.

 

“I can carry you across. But you alone,” the North Wind murmured, almost thoughtfully, “it has been a time since anyone dared to challenge the Immortal Queen.”

 

“You mean Camille.” Alec broke in, his muscles tense.

 

“I don’t wish to challenge anyone. I just want Magnus back.”

 

The wind blew around him, ruffling his hair and tugging at his cloak, so hard that Alec felt his feet lift briefly from the ground.

 

“No one takes what the Immortal Queen claims,” she breathed into his ear, shocking him from the temperature.

 

Alec gritted his teeth as the wind lifted him into the air. Her touch was icy and he could feel his teeth begin to chatter.

 

“Magnus isn’t an object to claim.”

 

* * *

 

“The queen requests your presence,” even without looking at him, Magnus could tell that Raphael was bowing. He was the only one Camille trusted to watch over Magnus and he was always at his door, at his beck and call.

 

Magnus did not turn from the window.

 

The wind had been particularly strong that day, so much so that Raphael had forbade him from going up to the rooftop. So Magnus had stayed in his room, curled up in his blankets, watching the snow drift from the skies from the single window.

 

Raphael had left him alone to his mind, until now.

 

“Milord?” The valet called again when he received no reply and Magnus shifted, wrapping his blankets tighter about his body. He had no desire to leave the warmth of his bed.

 

“She can come to me,” he answered stiffly. It would be no different than when Camille visited him in his chambers every night. He saw no need for things to change.

 

“She insists, milord,” Raphael was at the foot of his bed now, his expression stern, “there is someone she wishes for you to meet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can send me prompts or just talk to me on tumblr, [snippets-of-imagination](https://snippets-of-imagination.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [@VOlympianlove](https://twitter.com/VOlympianlove). I actually am pretty active on tumblr, believe it or not even when i've disappeared off here. So come say hi!


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